“And if I got you to liking me you wouldn’t fight me perhaps. The funny thing was that I got to liking you, on your own account, and I adore your grandmother, to say nothing of your mother. And while I still will not refuse the presidency, please punish me by putting up somebody else and voting for her.”
“Of all things!” exclaimed Ann. “What on earth makes you tell me this?”
“I don’t know myself; only I thought that I’d feel better. I’d like to be a real friend of yours, and I am ashamed of the way it began.”
Ann held out her hand. “Shake hands on it, Eleanor. I’m glad to have as strong a girl as you are for my friend. I’ll have to confess that I was too much influenced by that ‘forest fire’ conflagration, and haven’t known until lately how fine you are. I don’t wonder that Suzanne felt ‘killed’ over your withdrawing from her suite.”
The girls clasped hands, Eleanor saying that it was too bad not to be able to exchange sorority “grips”. They walked along after that, talking of everything else but the recent revelation and the affair of the suite. “I’ll remember the number, Ann,” said Eleanor, as she reached their present location and went in, while Ann went on to find her new quarters.
“You can help us move,” saucily said Ann, while Eleanor, like Suzanne, accustomed to a maid at home, lifted her brows and remarked, “Mayhap I will.”
The suite, for whose number Ann was looking, was at the end of another corridor, which ran at right angles to that on which The Jolly Six had their quarters. The outside door was unlocked, the key in it, and there were evidences of fresh dusting and cleaning. Ann ran first to the window to see what the view might be and found that she looked out toward the hillside, the little stream and the rustic bridge. “O lovely, lovely!” she cried, and started back, intending to bring over an armful of clothes at once. At the door she almost ran into Marta who was on a similar errand, and remarked that at every turn she ran into her room-mate.
“Look here, Marta, isn’t this prodigious?—and splendiferous?” Ann drew Marta to the window to see the same picturesque hillside. “See that baby cottontail,—right down under the window,—in those bushes!—now he’s gone!”