“I always notice everything,” retorted Jerry. “I hope——”
Marjorie flashed her a warning look. “It wasn’t anything that could be avoided,” she answered with a finality that Jerry understood, if no one else did. “I move that we go down to Sargent’s and celebrate our defeat,” she quickly added. “Have a seat, girls. It won’t take us long to get into our everyday clothes.”
“Such a shame,” bewailed Daisy Griggs. “After we’ve gone to the trouble of having these stunning suits made, then we have to be robbed of a chance to parade around the gym as winners. Anyway, they’re a whole lot prettier than the sophs’ suits. I didn’t like that dark green and blue they had as well as ours.”
“They stuck to the sophomore colors, though,” reminded Rita. “It’s a wonder that Rowena Farnham didn’t appear in some wonderful creation that had nothing to do with class colors. It would be just like her.”
Despite their regret over losing the game, the defeated team, accompanied by Jerry, Constance, Irma and Harriet Delaney, who afterwards dropped in upon them, set off for the all-consoling Sargent’s in fairly good humor, there to spend not only a talkative session, but their pocket money as well.
It was not until Jerry, Constance and Marjorie had reluctantly torn themselves from their friends to stroll homeward through the crisp December air that Jerry unburdened herself with gusto.
“Marjorie Dean,” she began impetuously, “do you or don’t you know why you nearly fell down in that rush?”
“I know, of course,” nodded Marjorie. “Someone swept me forward and I almost lost my balance. It’s happened to me before. What is it that you are trying to tell me, Jerry?”
“That someone was Row-ena,” stated Jerry briefly. “Isn’t that so, Connie?”
“It looked that way,” Connie admitted. “I thought she played very roughly all through the game.”