“I may not have it right,” said Betty, “but I think that is what it is.”
“I’ll trust your reading every time,” Kathryn declared.
“Better not; but I found an old text of Mother’s that has grand notes in it and I use it along with my own. I could bring it to school and lend it to you in study hall some time.”
“Oh, don’t bother. I’ll ask you about anything too muddly.”
“I’m getting used to Cicero now.”
“So am I, but it’s harder than Caesar because he has a sort of argument, you know, that you have to get.”
Betty was glad that she had study hall the last period before lunch. It was all too short, but she concentrated and lost to all surroundings, “crammed” on two lessons. Latin and Math could be acquired that evening—no—Chet was coming over! There was a young people’s supper and party at the church! Oh, well. She’d get it in somehow. And Betty would.
The afternoon went as busily, though the periods were of the usual length. How was she going to get to that Lyon “Y” meeting when there was orchestra practice? She had not thought of that! But when school was out and she had put away her books in her locker, with the exception of what she must take home, she ran to the auditorium with her violin only to find a notice:
“Orchestra practice postponed until tomorrow. Same hour!”
The violin went back into the locker, for there would be no home practice tonight! Arm in arm with Carolyn Gwynne, who had also seen the notice and waited for Betty, she ran in fine spirits to the room in which the Lyon “Y,” or the older high school group of Girl Reserves, was to meet. “Got the letter, Betty?” asked Carolyn.