Polly laughed. “You are too worldly-wise for me. Now I never should have dreamed of such a thing.”
“Well, I’m right! One reason Bob never has a beau is just because she shows how anxious she is for one.”
“Oh, no, Nolla! The reason Bob hasn’t any beaux is on account of her disposition—you know that!”
“That, too, Polly. But mostly, because she throws herself at the head of any eligible man. I tell you, a man won’t have it so!”
“Never mind, Nolla. You and I are never going to have beaux, so we should worry! We will marry our profession!” said Polly.
The following Monday, Anne escorted her two charges to the school on West End avenue. It was a wonderful Autumn day and the girls pictured how beautiful the mountains about Pebbly Pit must look on such a clear day.
As the Fifth avenue bus was most convenient for Polly and her companions, boarding it at Thirtieth street and leaving it at the corner of Seventy-second street where West End avenue started northward, they had but a short walk to reach the school.
Eleanor had been most particular with Polly’s, and her own appearance, that morning. “For,” said she, “first impressions are lasting. We must be sure and make a favorable dent in these girls.”
“But we don’t know one of them, Nolla,” argued Polly.
“All the more reason why we should take the head of the line!” retorted Eleanor, tossing her head.