“But they’ve seen us,” objected Helen, “and you’d miss the fudge.”
A moment later, three girls and a Japanese screen fell through Georgia’s door into the midst of an amazed freshmen fudge party.
“Goodness,” said Georgia, when she had recovered her breath. “Did you hear that horrid Lucile? ‘A regular freshman trick’—that’s what she said to her man. They blame everything on us.”
“Well if this fudge is regular freshman fudge, it’s the best I ever tasted,” said little Helen Adams tactfully.
Later in the evening Betty trailed her red kimono into Helen’s room. “Helen,” she began, “did I have on my pearl pin when we started down-stairs to-night? I can’t find it anywhere.”
“I don’t think you did,” said Helen, thoughtfully, “but I’ll go and see. You might have dropped it off when we all landed in a heap on the floor.”
But the freshmen had not found the pin and diligent search of Georgia’s room, as well as of the halls and stairways, failed to reveal it.
“Oh, well, I suppose it will turn up,” said Betty easily. “I lost it once last year, and ages afterward I found it in my desk. I shan’t worry yet awhile. I didn’t have it on this morning, did I?”
This time Helen remembered positively. “No, you had on your lucky pin—the silver four-leaved clover that I like so much. I noticed particularly.”
“All right then,” said Betty. “I saw it last night, so it must be about somewhere. Some day when I’m not so lame from riding and so sleepy, I’ll have a grand hunt for it.”