“Very well,” agreed Katherine. “I’ll hand it to him before class to-morrow. Then after class you can inquire whether he got it all right.”
“Yes,” said Madeline, “and Roberta can inquire too. Then next day Betty can linger on the way out and ask if he doesn’t think it is a pity about Georgia.”
“And I shall sit near the window that day,” put in Babbie eagerly, “and ask him to have it opened, if he doesn’t open it of his own accord. And Babe can shiver and cough, and then we’ll watch him slam it down hard in memory of his dear Georgia.”
Dr. Eaton rose to the bait with almost annoying readiness. Apparently he found nothing strange in the remarkable solicitude of Georgia’s friends. He lectured patiently in a stuffy room, or opened the window a crack and cautioned the whole class to let him know the instant they felt a draught. Furthermore he rearranged his roll in exact alphabetical order, and called it scrupulously at the beginning of each recitation. “The Merry Hearts” found these developments so amusing that they regretted having packed Georgia off in such desperate haste.
“We might just as well have let her come to class once more, to hear one last lecture,” said Rachel sadly. “It would have been risky, but everything Georgia does is that.”
“Couldn’t we do it still?” asked Mary.
“No,” said Bob decidedly, “we can’t. I told Dr. Eaton only this morning that Georgia had got to Arizona. He asked me where she was going to stay, and I said that she was going to try Tombstone for a while anyway.”
“He’ll see through that,” said Babbie scornfully. “That’s too silly even for Georgia.”
“See through what?” inquired Babe loftily. “I suppose you think there isn’t any such place as Tombstone, do you? But I looked it up on a map, and there is, and furthermore I’ve got several other beautiful names ready in case Georgia doesn’t care for Tombstone.”