"Girls, stop," begged Cordelia, in real distress. "I—I hate to tell you now; it sounds so foolish. It's only—my prize paper. It's all done. I'm going to hand it in Monday, and—and I was so pleased with the subject!"
"Oh, Cordelia, what is it? You know what mine is," cried Elsie.
"It's—'When Sunbridge went to Texas,'" announced Cordelia, breathlessly.
"When—what?" cried Genevieve, almost sharply.
Cordelia turned a happy face.
"I knew you'd like it, Genevieve," she nodded. "It's our trip, you know. I've told all about it—comparing things here to things there, you see."
"Why—but, Cordelia, that's—" Genevieve paused abruptly. The pause in her sentence was not noticed. The girls were all talking now, begging Cordelia to tell them if they were "in it."
"When—when did you choose your subject, Cordelia?" asked Genevieve, very quietly, when she could be heard.
"Not until the first of May. I just couldn't seem to get anything. Then this came all of a sudden, and—and it just seemed to write itself, it was done so quickly. You see I didn't have to look up this subject."
Genevieve's face cleared. It was all right, after all. She had selected the subject a whole week before Cordelia—and of course Cordelia would understand.