“I’d be delighted,” said Mathilde.
“It’s so good of you,” smiled Betty. “I think I can come. Some of the girls were talking about a sophomore party, but I don’t see how we could get up such a big affair on short notice.”
“I wouldn’t try a class affair,” pleasantly advised the junior. “I’ll call you up, perhaps; but if I don’t you will understand, I hope. I’m sending out some funny invitations and suppose you just give me your addresses now, though I could look it up in the directory, of course.”
Addresses were scribbled on scraps of paper, which was all any of them could muster, it seemed. The invited guests were naturally wondering what they would be expected to wear, though Hallowe’en customs gave them a pretty good idea. “What sort of a party is it?” asked Mathilde, “a costume party?”
“Yes. Wear anything you happen to have, and a mask, of course. We’ll do the usual things, indoors and out if it isn’t too freezing cold by that time. We’ve an attic and a basement and I’m going to use both for stunts.”
“How jolly!” Betty’s face brightened with her happiest enthusiasm, and the junior, Marcella Waite, was glad that she had invited her, privately thinking Betty a “dear.”
Betty was wondering if Marcella was one of those who wanted Lucia in a sorority, according to the ideas of Dotty and the rest. Oh, wasn’t life nice with so many mysteries and good friends and everything and plenty of things to do! She would probably meet a number of the older girls at this party. It would have been more than human not to be pleased at notice from the juniors. But of course it was probably on account of Lucia. She needn’t plume herself upon it.
They had played a few games before starting back, but to walk back five miles and arrive in time for lunch, even a late one, precluded a long stay at the picnic grounds. Besides this was a hike. It was about ten-thirty when Betty received her invitation. The girls strolled along, not caring much whether they made any “record time” or not. This would be their last hike, they supposed, while the country was still so pretty.
Chet, who had asked the privilege of “seeing Betty home” with much fun and nonsense, had gotten separated from her group and was seen in the distance with Carolyn and Peggy. Kathryn was nowhere in sight.
And now they had reached that wild stretch through which the early hikers had come and where Carolyn, Peggy, Lucia and Mathilde had rested, on one of the hills. That one they avoided but crossed the little stream on stones recently provided by the hikers. Lightly they jumped from one to the other, balancing uncertainly on the log which was left by former waters, turned from its proper position, as Marcella said. “There must have been a big current here,” said Marcella, “to move that old thing that’s been here for years!”