“Betty,” said Nan soberly, “you don’t do things like this?”
“I!” Betty flushed indignantly. “Weren’t there all kinds of girls when you were in college, Nan? Didn’t you ever know people who did ‘things like this’?”
Nan laughed. “There certainly were,” she said. “I’ll trust you, Betty. Only don’t see too much of Miss Watson, or she’ll drag you down, in spite of yourself.”
“But Ethel’s dragging her up,” objected Betty. “And I gave her the first boost, by knowing Ethel. Not that I meant to. I never seem to accomplish things when I mean to. You remember Helen Chase Adams?”
“With great pleasure. She noticed my youthful appearance.”
“Well, I’ve been all this term trying to reform her clothes, but I can’t improve her one bit, except when I set to work and do it all myself. I should think you’d be afraid she’d drag me into dowdiness, I have to see so much of her.”
Nan smiled at the dainty little figure in the big chair. “I don’t notice any indications yet,” she said. “It took you an hour to dress this morning, exactly as it always does. But you’d better take care. What are you going to do to-day?”
“Make your friend Helen Chase Adams a stock for Christmas,” announced Betty, jumping up and pulling Nan after her. “And you’ve got to help, seeing you admire her so much.”