“Sally said she cried all night. She didn’t care to live without a picture of her dear Donald. I said her cousin could send her another picture of his roommate, but she didn’t reply. However, she looked so sort of queer that I was more than ever sure that she was just using her imagination.
“Nothing happened until Valentine’s day, and you remember, Megsy, that Mrs. Martin said that Benjy Wilson might bring over a few of his friends from the Drexel Military Academy to call and that one of the teachers, Miss King, if she were free, would act as chaperone.
“That was a great occasion for the girls. Mrs. Martin excused us from classes, as the calls were to be in the afternoon and Miss King took that opportunity to drill us in how to receive visitors. After half an hour of practice we skipped up to our rooms to get ready. We put on our prettiest white dresses with gay colored sashes. Margaret and Babs were to pour chocolate and Sally and I were to pass plates of wafers. This reception was for all of our sophomore and senior girls. Of course, Sentimental Sally was more excited than any of the rest of us, although we were all interested. It was a pleasant break in the monotony of school life. Eleanor Pettes had a single room at the front of the house last year, and just as we were all dressed and waiting for a signal to call us downstairs, Eleanor beckoned and we flocked to her room. ‘Here they come,’ she whispered, as though they could hear, ‘and don’t they look handsome, all of them in blue and gold dress uniforms.’
“They certainly did. There were about fifteen boys walking two by two with Sergeant Hinkle, one of the seniors, in charge. Sally had been at her mirror arranging her yellow curls in just the right places, and so she hadn’t looked out the window, but she was ready a second later when Miss King appeared to lead us downstairs.
“The boys were standing about in the library looking at the books on the shelves or pretending to when we entered. Miss King spoke first with Sergeant Hinkle, and then we were all introduced in a rather general way, and we stood about talking in groups. I said to Sally: ‘There are two boys over by the window and they look lonely. Let’s go and talk with them.’
“‘All right,’ Sally agreed, ‘you lead the way.’
“Sally followed as I wedged through the groups, but when we got there we found only one boy who stood with his arms folded looking about the room with rather an amused expression on his really good-looking face. He turned toward us questioningly for Sally had uttered a little cry of amazement and had put her hand to her heart.
“Of course, I had recognized the boy at once. He was Donald Dear! He looked at us pleasantly, even curiously, as he noted Sally’s very evident agitation, but it was perfectly plain to me that he had never seen either of us before.
“‘What did Sally say?’ Virginia inquired.
“‘She didn’t say—she bolted! She went up to her room and when the callers were gone I found her there in tears.’