“Yes, yes, I am wild to see her and thank her. The idea of Mary’s being the one to come to the rescue so nobly. I always knew she was a dear! You need not save my seat for me, Mother, I would rather not see the boat race at all, we stand no show there.”
And Dolly whisked down from her high seat of honor as president of the class, and ran in search of Mary, whose father and mother could not comprehend the importance of all the athletic contests, but who were nevertheless filled with very pardonable pride at their daughter’s triumph.
When Dolly reached the Oaks, Mary had disappeared, and the most diligent search in grounds and rooms failed to reveal her.
Dolly wandered back disconsolately just in time to hear the crowd cheering for Wellesley, who had won the boat race, with Vassar a close second.
“They can have their victory, and welcome,” Dolly said contentedly to Dick Martin, who joined her just then. “We have all we want. I must go now and see if the tables are all in readiness for tonight.”
“I just heard Miss Newby declare that everything had been done, so I hope you will walk down to the end of the grounds with me. Can’t you do that, Dolly? I have been trying to get a moment with you for a long time. I must go back to Boston at eight o’clock, and this is my last opportunity to talk with you.”
“Aren’t you going to say anything to me, Dolly?”
“Well,” with an unaccountable hesitation in her manner. “I suppose that a class president ought not to run away like this, but if you will not take me far–”