“Why, Clarice!” cried Frances reprovingly.
“I can’t help it if you are shocked. If it were as necessary for any of you to be graduated from this institution as it is for me, you’d go the limit, too!” Clarice’s tone was defiant, but as she slid off of the railing and hurried into the house, Patricia who was still watching her saw sudden tears fill the girl’s hard, black eyes.
Anne shrugged her shoulders as the back door banged. Frances raised her eyebrows and looked troubled. Betty and Katharine nonchalantly continued the business of hair drying. Patricia sighed—“I wish we could help her out,” she said thoughtfully. “I know a little of what graduation means—”
“Then why doesn’t she work?” demanded Betty sharply.
No one was able to answer that question, so after a moment they began to discuss plans for the picnic. In the meantime a girl who had been sitting quietly at an open window above the back porch left her room and went in search of Clarice.
By four o’clock on Tuesday afternoon, the swimming tests were over and the gym was filled with chattering girls discussing the probabilities of success and failure.
“I won’t draw a full breath until I see the list posted,” declared Frances, as she left the building with Anne and Patricia.
“I imagine we all passed,” observed Anne placidly.
“Wish I knew how poor Clarice came out,” said Patricia. “Yet I hate to ask her right out.”
“Haven’t heard her mention the subject since Saturday morning,” said Frances. “Have you?”