Lily raised her head from the pillow. “I don’t care—if you want to tell me, and it isn’t a secret, or anything.”
Marjorie began to tell about their good time. Suddenly she stopped, and looked hastily at her watch. “You better hurry and dress, Lily!” she advised. “It’s five minutes of six. You’ll be late for supper!”
“I don’t want any—I couldn’t go in the dining-room like this; my eyes are a sight!”
“Well, I’ll ask if I can bring you some supper up here.”
“No—I’m not hungry. I’ve been eating chocolates. Father sent me another five-pound box.”
“Oh, Lily! why did you eat them? Can’t you just eat them after meals? Your digestion will be ruined, and besides you’ll never be able to play hockey, or swim in the pool.”
“I don’t want to play hockey or swim!” she exclaimed. “I hate athletics. And I loathe Miss Phillips. Every time I see her, she says something about ‘chocolate éclairs and cream puffs.’”
Marjorie sighed. The dinner bell sounded. “Well, I’ll have to go,” she said. “I’ll tell you more about the party after supper.” She paused and unpinned her bunch of violets. “I want you to have half,” she said as she divided them. “They were the prize—I won them.”
“Thanks, awfully, Marjorie,” said Lily, smiling again. “Don’t leave me long; and, oh, Marjorie, if you do make the sorority, promise to help get me in it.”
“I can’t do that, dear. They only take four girls from each class, and there wouldn’t be a vacancy unless somebody died or left the seminary.”