“You saved yourself by turning around, Betty,” said the youth usually addressed by the boys as “Irish.” “I was just going to set off a few gentle blasts behind you to see how much you love real music. Going to join the band?”
“Certainly,” replied Betty as she threw up her hands in pretended horror at Mickey’s cornet and statement. “I had to deliver a message for the principal—honestly,” she added, as Mickey made a face which indicated some doubt of her veracity. But Betty was smiling. “I’ve got to fly now before the gong rings.”
Betty, too, joined the ranks of the hurried, as she went back to her home room to report the result of her errand and to explain the length of her absence from the room. The “adorable Miss Heath” was her home room teacher this year and she would believe her truthful. It was such a comfortable feeling to be under a teacher who trusted you and to whom you were “making good.” Betty would have been “boiled in oil,” she declared, before she would take advantage of Miss Heath’s confidence. She did feel a little guilty, however, because she had not hurried to leave the auditorium. Those killing boys! And Betty was proud of the Lyon High band, nearly fifty pieces, and “playing like professional musicians” under their instructor and leader, as one optimistic article in the school paper had declared. She gave a little skip as she thought of it, but slowed her step to enter her home room sedately.
Dotty Bradshaw, the same old Dotty, made big eyes at her, pretending to look shocked. Carolyn Gwynne, darling, precious Carolyn, still Betty’s dearest among the girls, scarcely excepting Kathryn Allen, gave Betty a demure look as she passed in front of her desk to report to Miss Heath. As Betty and Carolyn sat on front seats, across the aisle from each other, Carolyn could hear everything that Betty said, though her tone was low as she talked to Miss Heath.
“I’d been wondering what had become of you,” said Carolyn, when in a few minutes the girls of the home room were in semi-order on their way to the auditorium.
“It was fine to ‘traverse these sacred halls’ just like a teacher. O, Carolyn, I’ve something to show you. Don’t let me forget it. I brought it along so Doris or Dick wouldn’t get hold of it. I’m always forgetting and leaving things about and I can’t blame Dodie for looking at them and asking questions. But you do hate to have everything talked over in the family! I really suppose you’ll have grounds for thinking that I’m not in good taste to show it to you but I have to talk it over with somebody!”
“How flattering that you choose me!” mischievously remarked Carolyn.
“Shush! You know I always tell you things that I can tell anybody.”
“I’m consumed with curiosity. What can it be?”
“Do you remember the Don?”