“I am not sure that I shall go to college at all,” said Sidney. “It would be fun, I suppose, but Mother wants me to be with her and it would only mean living at home and going to the university in Chicago.”
“I thought you were keen on your studies, Sidney,” said Caroline, in surprise.
“I am, some of them,” replied Sidney, “but I can have lessons on what I like, read French and other literature at home and all that. You see, I shall be eighteen before long, and Mother will bring me out in society then. Why, Caroline, you and Hope will be doing the same thing!”
“Perhaps,” said Hope. “I am thinking of going to the university, and I can’t do both.”
More girls had come in by this time. The dean had mounted the platform and the teachers were in their places. The group around Sidney broke up and Madge turned, to see Shirley busily writing in her notebook.
“Gracious!” exclaimed Madge. “Do you suppose, Caroline, that she was there all the time?”
“Not likely,” replied Caroline. “I’d be so mad I couldn’t write if I had heard Sidney talking like that about me. But Shirley is writing away as cool as a cucumber. Shall you ask her?”
“My, no! If she has heard and says anything about it, I’ll tell you, but I’ll not start any trouble for Sidney, and I would hate to have Shirley know that Sidney would speak of her in just that way. Some way—I like Sidney—but it didn’t seem just as kind as a girl ought to be that has everything, like Sidney.”
“No,—it did not. But Sidney is proud, and Shirley Harcourt is making too much of a success at everything to suit Sidney.”
“I wonder,” said Madge.