“For they can’t plant the ivy in the rain,” she thought, “and if they don’t plant it how can they sing the song?”
But the sunshine lasted, Marie planted the ivy,—and the college gardener carefully replanted it later, “’cause them gals will be that disapp’inted if it don’t live,”—the class sang Helen’s song, and the odes, orations and addresses were all duly delivered.
Then, as Bob flippantly remarked, the fun began. For Mr. Wales had chartered three big touring cars and invited the “Merry Hearts” to go out to Smugglers’ Notch for luncheon, with Mrs. Adams, who had never been in an auto before, for chaperon and himself, Will, and Jim Watson as escorts and chauffeurs.
By the time they got back the campus was festooned with Japanese lanterns, little tables ready for bowls of lemonade stood under all the biggest trees, and a tarpaulin dotted with camp chairs covered a roped-off enclosure near the back steps of College Hall.
“You’ve got tickets, father,” Betty explained, “so you can sit down in there and listen to the music. Will, you’re to call for me.”
“For Miss Ayres,” Will amended calmly. “Watson is going to take you.”
Judge and Mrs. Watson had seats too, so Eleanor and Mr. Blake, Betty and Jim, and Madeline and Will wandered off together, two and two, enjoying snatches of the concert, exploring the campus, and engaging in a most exciting “Tournament”—Madeline’s idea of course—to see who could drink the most lemonade. Will was ahead, with Madeline a close second, when a mysterious whistle sounded from the second floor of the Hilton.
“Oh, good-bye, Dick,” said Madeline briskly, holding out her hand. “It’s time for you to go. Shall I see you to-morrow or not till I get to New York?”
“Have we really got to go so soon?” asked Will sadly.
Betty nodded. “Or at least we’ve got to go and put on old dresses, so as to be ready to join in our class march.”