Betty looked at her solemnly. “You probably will. You’re a good hard worker, Helen. Isn’t it queer,” she went on, “we’re not a bit alike, but this game is making us feel the same way. I wonder if the others feel so too. Perhaps it’s one reason why they have this game–to wake us all up and make us want to do something worth while.”
“Betty Wales,” called Christy Mason from the floor below. Betty leaned over the railing. “Don’t forget that you’re coming to dinner to-night. We’re going to serenade the team. They’ll be dining at the Belden with Miss Andrews.”
Kate Denise joined her. She had never mentioned the afternoon in Eleanor’s room, but she took especial pains to be pleasant to Betty.
“Hello, Betty Wales,” she called up. “Isn’t it fine? Don’t you think we’ll win? Anyway Miss Andrews says it’s the best game she ever saw.”
“Betty Wales,” called Dorothy King from her leader’s box, “come to vespers with me to-morrow.”
Betty met them all with friendly little nods and enthusiastic answers. Then she turned back to Helen. “It’s funny, but I’m always interrupted when I’m trying to think,” she said. “If there were six of me I think I might be six successful persons. But as it is, I suppose I shall always be just ‘that little Betty Wales’ and have a splendid time.”
“That would be enough for most people,” said Helen.
“Oh, I hope not,” said Betty soberly. “I don’t amount to anything.” She slipped down into her place again. The teams were coming back.
“See Laurie limp!”
“Their other home–the one with the red hair–looks as fresh as a May morning.”