“But it’s such a nuisance to lock up,” complained Babe, “and if I hide things I can’t ever find them again, so I might as well not bother.”
“I haven’t any golden baubles,” said Bob, “but I’m going to keep my money in ‘Love’s Labor Lost.’ You’ll find it there if you ever want to borrow.”
“‘Much Ado about Nothing’ would be the most appropriate place for mine,” laughed Katherine, “so I choose that. You probably won’t find any if you want to borrow.”
“But seriously, girls, let’s all be more careful,” advised Betty, “and let’s ask other people to be. Think how perfectly awful it is to make chances for girls to forget themselves. But I shan’t believe it’s a Harding girl,” she added decisively. “It would be perfectly easy for any dishonest young woman to go through the houses without being questioned. Perhaps she got frightened and didn’t notice Babbie’s money on that account or didn’t have time to snatch up anything but the pin.”
Just then Babbie appeared, bringing Roberta and Rachel Morrison who had met them in the hall, and in the general attack upon the fudge pan more serious issues were forgotten.
It was now the busiest, gayest part of the long fall term. Flying fast on the heels of the house play came Thanksgiving Day.
“And just to think of it!” wailed Bob. “Only two days vacation this year, and Miss Stuart and the president dropping the most awful hints about what will happen if you cut over. Nobody can go home. I hope the faculty will all eat too much and have horrible attacks of indigestion.”
“Well, we may as well have as much fun as we can out of it,” said Babbie philosophically. “I’ve written home for a spread; so we shan’t die of hunger.”
“Mrs. Kent says she’s going to give us the best Thanksgiving dinner we ever ate,” announced Betty cheerfully.
“I hope our matron will be seized with the same lofty ambition,” said Katherine. “If she is, and if the skating holds, I shan’t mind staying here.”