“How awfully funny!” gurgled Betty. Then she jumped almost out of her chair. “Why, Mary Brooks!” she said.
Everybody looked at Mary, who blushed guiltily and remarked with great dignity that Professor Hinsdale was an old telltale. But when she had assured herself that the freshmen, with the possible exception of Eleanor, were disposed to regard the psychological experiment which had victimized them with perfect good-nature, and herself with considerable admiration, she condescended to accept congratulations and answer questions.
“Seriously, girls,” she said at last, “I hope no one got really scared. I wanted to explain when I heard Betty tell how unhappy Miss Madison was, but I really thought Miss Mansfield’s denial would cheer her up more and reach her almost as quickly, and at the same time it would help me out so beautifully. It made such a grand conclusion!
“You see,” she went on, “Professor Hinsdale put the idea into my head when he assigned the subjects away back last month. He said he was giving them out early so we would have time to make original observations. When he mentioned ‘Rumor,’ he spoke of village gossip, and the faked stories that are circulated on Wall Street to make stocks go up or down, and then of the wild way we girls take up absurd reports. The last suggestion appealed to me, but I couldn’t remember anything definite enough, so I decided to invent a rumor. Then I forgot all about it till that Saturday that I went skating, and ‘you know the rest,’ as our friend Mr. Longfellow aptly remarks. When I get my chef-d’œuvre back you may have a private view, in return for which I hope you’ll encourage your friends not to hate me.”
“Isn’t she fun?” said Betty a little later, when she and Helen were alone together. “Do you know, I think this rumor business has been a good thing. It’s made a lot of us work hard, and only seriously frightened three or four.”
“Yes,” said Helen primly. “I think so too. The girls here are inclined to be very frivolous.”
“Who?” demanded Betty.
Helen hesitated. “Oh, the girls as a whole.”
“That doesn’t count,” objected Betty. “Give me a name.”
“Well, Barbara Gordon.”