After the meeting with the girls, who were to be served a lovely luncheon, Betty guessed from Lucia’s remarks, there would follow the visit with Lucia, till Monday morning took them to school again. What delights might develop Betty could only guess, but in that house a guest would not be neglected she knew.
Lucia was in fine spirits. No hint of any worries which she might have could have been gleaned from anything in her expression or conversation. They discussed the last school news and looked hastily through the copy, just out, of the school paper. The pictures of the football team were prominent with a snapshot of “Kentucky” on the shoulders of admiring rooters. Prominent seniors were being written up and this time Marcella Waite was the choice of the editors. Her picture was at the top of the page and below was a brief resume of Marcella’s character and activities.
“This is good,” said Lucia, close to Betty as they read the paper together, as well as they could for the motion of the car. “Marcella is the finest girl in the Kappa Upsilon sorority.”
“Don’t you like Peggy?” queried Betty.
“Oh, yes. Peggy’s all right, but Marcella is older and very fine.”
“I think so, too. I suspect that you see a good deal of Marcella, since you have been together in the sorority, you know.”
“Not so much. Sometimes Marcella scarcely has time for sorority meetings.”
So they chatted till they entered the grounds of the Murchison place, covered with snow now, the evergreens, heavy-laden, most beautiful to behold, and other great trees, tall and bare, outlined in black and white with the snow that clung to their branches. Betty became rather silent, while Lucia outlined plans and spoke happily of the fun that she hoped the girls would have with their sewing and visiting.
Betty was not accustomed to being admitted by a butler, but demurely followed Lucia up softly carpeted stairs to Lucia’s own room, where Lucia rang for her maid. Their wraps were first disposed of and Lucia followed Betty into the room which was to be hers for the short visit. “I thought at first,” said Lucia, “that I would rather have another bed put in my room, Betty, so that we could talk as long as we wanted to. My bed is one of twin beds and this is the other one. But then I’m used to sleeping alone, Mother reminded me; and she said that probably you were, too, and that we’d better do this way. I hope that you will like the room.”
“It is a lovely room!” enthusiastically cried Betty, though with her voice properly subdued. One could not imagine, Betty thought, that any one could come in talking as noisily as the Lee children occasionally found themselves doing in the sweet liberty of home. Still, their mother would hush too great a tumult, or their father would say quietly, “I’m not in Buxton, Dick. I can easily hear an ordinary tone!”