Mr. Wales took the party in charge for the afternoon, and they did New York with a vengeance, but neither luncheon at the Waldorf nor the marvels of the circus at the Hippodrome sufficed to cheer Mary Brooks, whose lively spirits were completely dampened by the failure of her pet scheme.
“To think,” she sighed to Roberta, “that it’s all gone for nothing—that mad dash that Madeline and I made home from Grant’s Town, when it’s a wonder we didn’t die of sun-stroke, and Betty’s drowning, and the novel, and all the films that Eleanor and Roberta wasted getting snap-shots of the hero and heroine, not to mention the able assistance of Mr. Wales. Betty, mayn’t I ask your father what he thinks now?”
But Mr. Wales was as much in the dark as the girls. “I thought for a while that we had it all fixed,” he said with a twinkle, “but I’m afraid Ethel was playing summer girl down there in the tropics. I should like to tell her what a fine fellow Eaton is, and give her some good advice about marrying and settling down before she’s worn herself out teaching troublesome young things like you, but Mrs. Wales says I’d better not.”
On the way up to Harding nobody had much time to devote to the subject of match-making. The train was full of Harding girls. Nita got on at the junction and Katherine and Rachel were at the station to greet the southern tourists. There were regular volleys of questions to answer, and it was great fun telling all about the queer things they had seen and done.
“You didn’t find out everything from the guide-books, Katherine,” Betty told her, “and you were wrong about the sidewalks. They weren’t narrow, because generally there weren’t any at all.”
A day or two later the college discovered where Dr. Eaton had spent his vacation, and there were more questions: Had they seen much of him? What was he like out of class? How did he and Miss Hale get on together?
The last question the girls parried as well as they could. “And I guess,” said Mary, “that our different versions are about as much alike as black and white.”
Meanwhile the novel and the illustrations for it lay unheeded in the depths of Mary’s desk drawer, for the author declared that she should not copy it into the beautiful gilt edge, morocco-covered blank-book which the club had provided until she knew exactly how things were going to end. This there seemed to be no immediate prospect of finding out. “The Merry Hearts” watched Ethel and Dr. Eaton as closely as they could without appearing intrusive, but they discovered absolutely nothing.
“She asked Betty to go walking with her just as she always did,” announced Babbie.
“And he goes off horseback riding with Professor Hinsdale,” contributed Roberta.