"Well, I'm glad you don't, my dear," remarked Betty. "It's more romantic than anything else—after you get over the sad part of it."
"And I am trying to do that," said Amy, bravely.
Together the four girls came out of the school. Most of the other pupils had gone home, for vacation days were near, and study hours were shortened on account of examinations.
"There she is now," said Mollie, as they turned a corner.
"Who?" questioned Betty.
"That Jallow girl and her familiar—Kittie. Her name is too good for her."
"Don't notice her," suggested Betty, "and don't, for goodness sake, speak to them. We don't want a scene. Perhaps Alice only did it impulsively—and did not really mean it."
If the reputed author of the anonymous letter, and her close friend, hoped for any demonstration on the part of those they had hoped to wound, they were disappointed.
In calm unconsciousness of the twain, the quartette passed on, talking gaily—though it was a bit forced—of their coming trip. And I must do Alice the justice to say that later she was truly sorry for what she had done.
"There's Will!" exclaimed Grace, as she caught sight of her brother. "And Frank Haley is with him. Here, girls, take what's left of these chocolates, or Will won't leave one."