“But—why—she gets letters and violets and notes on the bulletin board,” protested Alice.
“Yes, and she makes calls and drops handkerchiefs and takes English Essayists,” added Betty, “but you see this is how we manage her.” She explained the methods of “The Merry Hearts” and the bewilderment of Dr. Eaton. “So this isn’t the first time that I’ve been Georgia,“ she concluded. “Now do you think Mr. Alison will forgive me? Because he says in his note that he’s coming to call next Wednesday, and I might try to explain then, instead of writing.”
Needless to say, Mr. Alison forgave the fair conspirators. More than that, he was delighted with Georgia and promised to make her fairly famous at Yale. He had just received a composite picture of his sister’s crowd at school, and he got Betty to write “Georgia Ames” and the date on the back of it. The composite Georgia was a very pretty girl, and the slightly blurred effect was artistic and at the same time decidedly suggestive of Georgia’s elusive personality. Mr. Alison promised to send for more copies of Georgia’s picture for distribution among “The Merry Hearts.”
He was all the more interested because it seemed that Dr. Eaton was a friend of his older brother William, and Tom insisted upon having all the details of Georgia’s career in “English Essayists” in order that he might write to William, who was surveying a railroad route in Arizona, all about the joke on his old chum.
Betty had not been particularly interested in Georgia until the day of the faculty tea. Her interview with Dr. Eaton then and the subsequent adventure with Alice and Tom Alison aroused her imagination, and she entered into the plans for Georgia’s future as eagerly as Mary or Roberta. Even now, however, Mary accused her of being interested, not in Georgia, but in Dr. Eaton. To be sure Mary’s theory was largely founded on envy. She had thoroughly enjoyed the faculty tea, but she had not succeeded in meeting Dr. Eaton, who had left as soon as he finished his conversation with Betty. He had walked home with Ethel Hale, as Betty knew, because she had been bidding Ethel good-bye at the door, when he came up and, saying he believed they went the same way, asked permission to walk along with her.
“Thank you,—it’s not at all necessary,“ Ethel had said, “but do as you wish.” Dr. Eaton had looked hurt, Betty thought, but he went out with Ethel nevertheless.
“I don’t see why Ethel doesn’t like him,” Betty reflected. “I think he’s awfully nice, when he tries to be. And Ethel isn’t a blue-stocking like some of the women on the faculty. She likes men and good times just as well as we girls do.”