Faithful Robbie Belle had found out her refuge somehow and was waiting in the corridor. With that comforting arm across her shoulders, Berta poured out the story of her sudden disappointment.
At first Robbie was silent. Then she spoke gently: “But, Berta, you have had the four years at college, you know, and four years are a good deal. There are thousands and thousands of girls who never have even that.”
“I know,” answered Berta, her voice smothered against the convenient shoulder. “And that thought helps—at least, I think it will help to-morrow.”
Robbie’s strong, warm hand sought and clasped Berta’s nervous fingers. “All right,” she acquiesced cheerily. “Now who do you suppose wrote that epilogue in last year’s Annual?
| “‘We go to meet the future, strong of soul, In sunlight or in shadow, holding fast The inviolable gift the years enroll; The Past is ours; nothing can change the Past.’” |
END