“And she’s certainly the merriest-hearted person I ever saw,” added Betty eagerly.
The B’s exchanged glances and then Babbie spoke for the three. “If it would please her, let’s do it.”
So Madeline wrote the note, and Betty delivered it just after chapel the next morning, while the rest of the club lingered ostentatiously in corners of the hall to watch its reception. This was all that could have been desired, and “The Merry Hearts” never regretted their action. Dora was even busier than Rachel and could very seldom come to the gay evening gatherings, but she wore her pin, a Christmas present from Bob, as proudly as if it had been a Victoria cross; and, next to her friendship with Eleanor, the dearest memory she took away with her from Harding was her membership in “The Merry Hearts.”
CHAPTER VIII
DR. EATON FINDS HIMSELF MISTAKEN
There were only five seniors at the Belden,—a state of affairs by no means without its compensations for the juniors who lived in the same house. There are decided advantages, connected with second helpings of ice cream and the possibility of having hot toast for breakfast, enjoyed by the girl who sits at the head of a table at meal times. This is ordinarily a senior privilege, but Mary Brooks was disqualified because she was never by any chance on time to serve breakfast, and another of the five spent all her Sundays with friends in town, and so was too irregular at meals to take her turn. One can easily get too much of even a good thing, and the other three, not caring for the continuous responsibility of being “heads,” gave up their places every second month to the juniors, who crowed over their classmates in other houses where seniors were more numerous or more tenacious of their rights. And this was not all. If the matron or the house-teacher wanted to entertain the senior contingent, it was often easier to ask with them the juniors in the house than to select a few seniors from outside to make up a party of the right dimensions.
So the Belden House juniors were not at all surprised and very much pleased to find that Mrs. Kent and Miss Andrews had decided to ask them to the annual house faculty-party, to which usually only the seniors were invited. Roberta Lewis, to be sure, being shy by nature and new to campus life, declared that she could not and would not go, and laid elaborate plans for having a headache or a sprained ankle. But even Roberta put aside her fears and resolved to venture down with Mary, when it was announced that the ice cream was to be chocolate parfait, and that the blasé Dr. Eaton had overpowered every one by sending an acceptance,—instead of his usual stereotyped regrets,—to the Belden House faculty-party.
“Do you suppose he’ll say anything about Georgia?” asked Roberta eagerly, as she helped Mary to dress.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” answered Mary absently, patting a refractory lock of hair into place, “but I don’t much care what he talks about, so long as he talks to me. You juniors needn’t think you can monopolize him just because you take his work.”