“No, they can’t,” said Helen quickly. “Some of them don’t know how.”
“Then they ought to learn,” declared Madeline. “In Bohemian New York, everybody has good times.”
“But Madeline,” broke in Nita Reese solemnly, “I know a sophomore who’s never been to a house dance or play or to an open meeting of one of the societies. What do you think of that?”
“I should think you’d better ask her to the next Belden House play,” laughed Katherine.
“Nevertheless,” Madeline took her up, “she may be just as happy as you are, Nita. A person isn’t really and truly happy until she’s learned that it’s not what you have, or what you do, that counts, nor even your friends, but just yourself; and you can make of yourself just about what you choose to. That’s the spirit of Bohemia, and if Betty wants ‘The Merry Hearts’ to encourage it here, why, I’m with her.”
“Girls,” called Mary Brooks, rapping for order with the chafing-dish spoon, “I foresee that this discussion isn’t coming out anywhere, and besides, the rules of the society prevent our putting the question to vote. So I shall settle it in accordance with the policy of ‘The Merry Hearts.’ Whoever likes Betty’s idea can act upon it. The rest needn’t. Only I want to say this,” went on Mary quickly. “I’ve found out lately that you can have plenty of fun when you’re doing things for other people. I never used to think so, but there was the Student’s Aid Fair last year, for instance. I never had more fun out of anything, and yet it helped a lot of girls to stay in college. I think it would be fine for ‘The Merry Hearts’ to get up something like that this year, don’t you?”
“Capital! Great! The very thing!” chorused “The Merry Hearts.”
“Oh, that’s right in our line,” conceded Babe. “But I didn’t think Betty meant having fairs and things. I thought she meant being nice to freaks.”
Everybody laughed.