“I guess so,” said Lily; “but not in the college library. Suppose I write to mother, and ask her to look in some of the New York book-stores?”
“Wonderful!” cried Marjorie, delighted to have her chum enter so heartily into her plans. “Just the thing! Oh, Lil, what would I ever do without you?”
“I’m just as thrilled over the prospect of it as you are,” replied her room-mate. “Only I’m afraid my motives aren’t so altruistic. It’s more because I’m glad of a chance to spend the summer with the old bunch than because I’m anxious to help the woman, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, we’ll have lots of summers together,” said Marjorie. “But this really is going to be an unusual experience.”
“I wish I believed the first thing you said,” returned Lily. “I feel it in my bones that now that Doris has started it, we’ll probably lose one girl every year, at least. And you can’t tell me it’s ever the same after they’re married!”
“Not exactly. But we still have Doris.”
“Never to go away with us again in the summer time, or to do anything much where men aren’t included. We’ve lost her—and when we lose you, I don’t know what I’ll do!”
“Well, you needn’t worry about that, yet,” laughed Marjorie. “I intend to stay single long enough to finish college, anyway.”
“But you never can tell what a summer will do,” sighed Lily. “Especially when you live in the same city with John Hadley—and see him every day!”
“Which I don’t intend to do. We’re going to be too busy, Lil, to have callers all the time. I want to make five hundred dollars this summer, besides paying back the money we borrow from your father.”