“And you are happy, Lyn?”
“Happy? Yes—happy, Con!”
They smiled at each other across the broad table.
“Betty has told the superintendent that if there is a blue stripe or a cropped head on December twenty-fourth, she’s going to recommend the dismissal of the present staff.”
“Good Lord! Does any one ever take Betty seriously? I should think one of those board meetings would bear a strong family resemblance to an afternoon tea—rather a frivolous one.”
“They don’t. And, honestly, people are tremendously afraid of Betty. She makes them laugh, but they know she gets what she wants—and with a joke she drives her truths home.”
“There’s something in that.” Truedale looked earnest. “She’s a great Betty.”
“So it’s up to Betty and me, now,” Lynda went on. “We can take off the shabby, faded little duds, but we’ve got to have something to put on at once, or the kiddies will take cold.”
“Surely.”
“We think that to start a child out in stripes is almost as bad as finishing him in them. To make a child feel—different—is sure to damn him.”