“Where is the theme?” asked Eleanor. “Won’t you read it to us?”
“It’s–why, I forgot the very best part of the whole story. Sallie Hill has it for the ‘Argus.’ She’s the literary editor, you know, and she wants it for the next number. So you see you are famous.
“Why don’t some of you elect this work?” asked Mary, when the excitement had somewhat subsided. “It’s open to freshmen, and it’s really great fun.”
“I thought you said that you spent eight hours and were in despair—” began Eleanor.
“So I was,” said Mary. “I declare I’d forgotten that. Well, anyhow I’m sure I shan’t have any trouble now. I think I’ve learned how to go at it. Why, do you know, girls, I have an idea already. Not for a theme–something else. It concerns all of you–or most of you anyway.”
“I should think you’d made enough use of us for the present,” said Betty. “Why don’t you try to make a few sophomores famous?”
“Oh it doesn’t concern you that way. You are to— Oh wait till I get it started,” said Mary vaguely; and absolutely refused to be more explicit.
CHAPTER VII
A DRAMATIC CHAPTER
The Chapin house girls decided not to spend the proceeds of the dancing class for an elaborate supper, as they had first intended, but to turn their “spread” into the common college type, where “plowed field” and chocolate made with condensed milk and boiling water are the chief refreshments, and light-hearted sociability ensures a good time for everybody.