"Of course she isn't lost, Kate," interposed the practical Elinor. "I am sure that I hear her on the stairs." And to prove that Elinor was right, a moment later the elder Miss Starkweather came panting into the room.
"You should have waited for me, girls; I had such a fright—I was sure you were lost!"
"Not lost—only gone before," interrupted Fritz. "I am sorry I shocked you, Amy," he whispered, catching her look of reproof. "Let us hurry on, ahead of the others."
Martine, walking with Fritz' friend, Barton, across the college yard, felt quite in her element. The young man was by no means bashful, and in a few moments the two were deep in a lively conversation. Martine's fatigue had passed away. Family trials were forgotten.
Fritz Tomkins had united with four or five of his friends in giving a large spread in one of the modern halls outside the yard.
Secretly Martine thought the affair conventional, "like any afternoon tea, with flowers on the table, and candelabra, and all the fashionable bonbons."
"But you wouldn't see so many men at a mere tea, truly I think it's great fun," said the staid Elinor, snuggling into a corner beside Martine. "At the next game I shall hardly know what side I am on. I like Harvard so well, and your hat, Martine, the one I am wearing, you can't imagine how many compliments it has had. You were altogether too good to let me have it. Do you suppose I shall ever find that trunk?"
Before Martine could reply, some one came to carry Elinor off for a walk. Martine, left to herself, eagerly watched everything around her.
"I wonder why Fritz pays more attention to Amy than to anyone else. He sees so much of her always that I should think to-day he'd look after other people. Now, I'm sure Amy isn't sentimental."
But just at this moment, Martine caught an expression on Fritz' face as he turned toward Amy that set her thinking. Rising to her feet, she hurried toward Mrs. Redmond.