“Well, how about the Harding Aid Society?” asked Eleanor. “Won’t they help?”
Betty shook her head. “I told Mary Brooks that a sophomore I knew needed help, and she said they had already had calls for more money than they can possibly raise this year. If only that old barn had burned sooner!”
There was a pause, then Eleanor spoke hesitatingly. “Didn’t you tell me—it’s not my affair—but didn’t you say that your new society—‘The Merry Hearts’—was going to give an entertainment for the Harding Aid. Why not do it for Dora instead?”
Betty gave a little cry of delight. “What a fine idea! I was a stupid not to think of it myself. I’ll go straight back and tell Mary. Eleanor, you’re a brick!”
With her hand on the door she remembered something and turned back. “You’ll help, of course, Eleanor. We shan’t forget that it was your idea, and we’ll carry it out just as you want us to.”
But Eleanor shook her head. “No,” she said, “it was ‘The Merry Hearts’ idea. I only amended it a little, and I could never carry it out. Please tell them that I donate the amendment to them gladly, if they like it. Run along, Betty dear.”
And Betty, after a moment’s hesitation, ran along. Mary approved of course, and at a brief business meeting of “The Merry Hearts,” held just before ten, it was formally decided to carry out Eleanor’s suggestion.
“And we must do it soon,” said Babe. “She ought to go right home if she’s got to go at all, so she can begin teaching in that school. If she waits, she might lose the chance. Fancy teaching a district school all your life!”
“Turn your fancy to something more useful,” advised Bob. “What kind of a show shall we have?”