The full program at school was a blessing that day. “Have a good time at your party?” asked several of the girls who knew about it, putting the question in various ways and at different times. And Betty brightly replied that there was a “wonderful dinner” and “quite a crowd.” Neither Jack nor Mathilde was at school, which lessened Betty’s embarrassment. She really dreaded to meet Jack Huxley. Lunch she hurried through and fortunately there was no practice in anything after school. She hung from a strap in the crowded street car and escaped any prolonged conversation with any one.
“There has been no telephone message from Jack,” her mother said, upon Betty’s inquiry. “I thought he might call up to see if I had gotten home all right, but of course he’d hate to say why he didn’t come himself. I have half a notion to call up Mathilde.”
But Betty thought better of this. She would not make the first move. And she certainly would never apologize for leaving that party! “Was everyone intoxicated, Betty?” asked her father as he had an opportunity to talk with her privately.
“Oh, no. But almost all the boys and girls had taken a little of whatever it was and were more—lively, you know, or silly, and there were a few, like me, that didn’t know what to do with the silly ones, at least they looked as if they were not enjoying it, and it was sort of loud and noisy—oh, I can’t tell you all the little things that made me feel I didn’t have to stay and stand it. If Mrs. Huxley had been there, I would have gone to speak to her. I thought of leaving a note for her, but I didn’t have any paper or pencil. But I’m not sure that she would have thought it as horrid as I did.”
“We shall see that you do not have such an experience again, Betty,” said her father. “You will have to have a talk with Jack, of course. That is inevitable. But I am sure that you are able to meet the situation.”
Betty was not quite sure just how she could meet it, but the very distance from the party was helpful now, in point of time and reflection upon it. Two days went by. No Jack at school. Mathilde was there, but carefully keeping away from Betty as Betty was keeping away from her. Then came the week-end and Monday again. Jack was in his classes. Lucia Coletti was back having had a touch of tonsillitis. Betty saw her and overheard her saying to Jack that she was “so sorry” she missed his party.
But some little echo of affairs had reached the school. The junior reporter of the school paper came to Betty with a puled look upon her face. “Betty, tell me about Jack Huxley’s birthday party. We were going to make a note of it, mostly something nice about Jack, if we could, though it wasn’t a junior party, of course, and I heard that they were mostly outsiders. How about it?”
“There was a notice of it in the newspaper. Did you see that? In the junior society doings?”
“No.”
“There was a list of names given, the more prominent ones, at least, though I was omitted by some terrible mistake.” Betty was laughing as she said this. She had been thankful enough when she saw that the list was not complete.