"What makes you think that?"
"Well, you say you need them to keep your soul in—to—to—I forgot just what you do say, but anyhow you always declare you can't be normal without a beau. And I guess all girls are alike, so Alicia needs one, too."
Rosalie went out of the kitchen, thinking hard. "I wonder—" she said. "I believe I can—" She went directly to the telephone, and called Bert.
"I have a friend spending the night with me," she said. "A town girl. You know I told you I was busy and could not keep our date. But I wonder if you can't get another man and come and help us make candy?"
Bert was desolated, but since Rosalie had said she was busy, he had made other arrangements—he didn't care two cents about the girl they picked out for him—wasn't it beastly luck— He would break the date, that's what he'd do.
Rosalie would not hear of it, and she stopped the conversation abruptly and looked at Alicia.
"Men are all alike, aren't they? Here he has been telling me for two months that I am the only girl in college—I shall get even with him. I'll just have a senior, and that will make him wild. Bob Harton is always asking me for dates, but is always just too late. So I can ask him perfectly all right, and we'll have him bring—let me see—I know—Arthur Gooding, a 'post'—and terribly sensible."
So she ran to the telephone again, in spite of Alicia's protests, and called the second number.