“Well, as soon as we get back after Christmas, you’d better give us her itinerary,” advised Mary. “We don’t want to slip up on a little thing like the geography of Arizona, when we’ve got her safely through everything else.”
“I wish I was safely through my packing,” grumbled Katherine.
“And I wish I was safely home,” added Betty. “Just think! If it wasn’t for that one class of Dr. Eaton’s to-morrow I could start to-night.”
“As long as you’ve got to stay,” suggested Madeline, “be sure and talk to him a little about Georgia. We don’t want him to forget her during the Christmas vacation.”
“All right, I will,” Betty promised. “I’ll tell him that her mother has gone out to spend Christmas with her. He’ll be so nice and sympathetic and he’ll say, ‘Now I’m glad of that. Fancy spending your Christmas alone in a place called Tombstone!’ I love to hear him say ‘fancy.’”
The next morning Betty arrived at the station hot and breathless, barely in time for the eleven-thirty train to the junction.
“Save me a seat, Madeline,” she panted, “with you and Mary and Roberta. I’ve got something to tell you; but first I’ve got to check my trunk.
“Well, what do you think Dr. Eaton did?” she began indignantly when she was finally seated beside her three friends, with the B’s and Nita just across the aisle. “I told him that Mrs. Erasmus J.—of course I didn’t call her that—had gone out to Tombstone, and he was positively frigid. He just said, ‘Indeed!’ and went on looking out the window. I was bound to make him take an interest, so I told him that she was dreadfully worried about Georgia, and he only said ‘Indeed!’ again. Then I happened to remember that I had her picture with me. Tom sent them to-day, and I was carrying Mary’s to her. So I said, ‘Dr. Eaton, you asked me once how Georgia looked. I’ve just got her picture. Should you like to see it?’ And he said, ‘Oh, don’t trouble, Miss Wales. I hope you will have a delightful vacation.’ Now what do you make of that?”
“Plain as day,” said Mary calmly. “Some disagreeable person has told him that Georgia is a fake, and he’s naturally huffy.”
“Oh, nobody would do that,” protested Roberta. “Every one who knows about Georgia knows that Dr. Eaton is the particular victim who isn’t to be told.”