“I didn’t choose any because Miss Stuart told me I would probably have to wait till junior year, and I thought I might change my mind before then.”
“It’s too bad,” said Betty, picking her way between trunk trays and piles of miscellaneous débris to the door. “I think I shall stop on my way home and get a man to move my furniture right over to the Hilton.”
“Oh, wouldn’t it be lovely if I’d got into the Hilton house too!” said Helen with a sigh of resignation. “Then perhaps we could room together.”
“Yes,” said Betty politely, closing the door after her. Under the circumstances it was not necessary to explain that Alice Waite and she had other plans for the next year.
It was a relief to stop trying to circumvent the laws of nature by forcing two objects into the space that one will fill–which is the cardinal principle of the college girl’s June packing–and Betty strolled slowly along under the elm-trees, in no haste to finish her errand. On Main Street, Emily Davis, carrying an ungainly bundle, overtook her.
“I was afraid I wasn’t going to see you to say good-bye,” she said. “Everybody wants skirt braids put on just now, and between that and examinations I’ve been very busy.”
“Are those skirts?” asked Betty.
“Yes, two of Babbie’s and one of Babe’s. I was going up to the campus, so I thought I’d bring them along and save the girls trouble, since they’re my best patrons, as well as being my good friends.”
“It’s nice to have them both.”
“Only you hate to take money for doing things for your friends.”