“Going abroad for the summer, you lucky girl? Well, rather not! I’m going to tutor six young wigglers into a prep. school.”
“Wasn’t last night fun? Don’t you wish we could have it all over again,—except the midyears and the papers for English novelists.”
“Good-bye!”
“Good-bye!”
“Good-bye!”
But these weren’t the good-byes that came hardest; those would be said later in the dear, dismantled rooms or at the station, for very close friends would arrange to meet again there. But the close friendships would be kept up in letters and visits, whereas these casual acquaintances might never again be renewed.
“I’ve seen you nearly every day for three years,” Madeline Ayres told little Miss Avery, whose name came next to hers on the class-list, “and now you’re going to live in Iowa and I’m going to Italy. The world is a big place, isn’t it?”
But Nita Reese thought it was surprisingly small when she found that Emily Davis was going to teach French in the little town where she lived, and Betty got a great deal of comfort from the fact that four other 19— girls lived in Cleveland.
“Though I can’t believe it’s really over,” Betty confided to Bob. “I don’t feel a bit like an alum.”
“That’s because you still look just like a freshman,” returned Bob, unfeelingly. “I’ll bet you a trolley-ride to any place you choose that you’ll be taken for one before you leave Harding.”