“I wish you were.” Blanche looked briefly regretful. With all her faults, Jeanette was a decided improvement on the girls upon whom she had thrust herself. “I’ll tell you all about to-night as soon as I come back from the great seance,” was the gracious promise.
“I shall love to hear it.” Jeanette grew correspondingly affable. By reason of certain confidences which Blanche had lately imparted to her, the two had been on exceedingly amiable terms for several days.
“Oh, I dare say it is nothing wonderful after all.” Blanche’s shapely shoulders went into contemptuous play. “Some new Camp Fire stunt, perhaps. We’ll probably have to listen to a lecture on what to do if the sky should fall in, or how to find oneself when lost in the woods, or some other idiotic babble.” The two giggled in unison at this witticism.
“Let’s go down to Wyman’s for dinner,” proposed Jeanette. “It’s after five o’clock now. I’m simply perishing for something good to eat. We’ll have an extra gorgeous dessert to make up for the stupid rice puddings, canned peaches and various other nursery treats we’ve had this week.”
“All right. I’ve a great mind not to go near Miss Drexal,” pouted Blanche.
“You might be sorry if you didn’t,” counseled Jeanette. “You can’t afford to tear down what you’ve had such hard work to build up. You must go on playing your part. Well, you know why.”
“Yes, that’s so.” Blanche sighed. Her frowning face took on an expression which a mere onlooker might have construed as “ridiculously sentimental.” Quite the contrary, Jeanette gazed at her with respectful admiration. She alone was privileged to read it aright, or so she fatuously believed.
Arm in arm, their heads together, the congenial duo left the house, proceeding in leisurely fashion across the campus and onto the main highway that led past Wyman’s hospitable doors. Situated half way between Miss Belaire’s Academy and the staid old town of Hillside, the smart little restaurant was the Mecca toward which the academy girls invariably gravitated when their monthly allowance checks arrived and burned in their pockets. Within a reasonable distance of almost every institution of learning for girls, there is sure to be one tea room or confectioner’s shop in particular which flourishes by reason of the united approval of its youthful patrons. Once they have set their seal upon it, it becomes in time traditional. To the Hillside girls, Wyman’s was in the nature of a necessity. They would hardly have known how to do without it.
But while Blanche and Jeanette were cosily ensconced at a favorite alcove table in the dainty gray and white tea-room, Ruth Garnier was taking uneasy stock of their absence from the academy dining room. She guessed naturally that Blanche was with Jeanette. Their dual absence went to prove as much. Where they had gone, and when they would return, was another matter. Blanche had given her no assurance that she would attend the meeting in Miss Drexal’s room. It would be too provoking, Ruth reflected, if Blanche were to stay away after all she had done in her behalf.
When, at a quarter to eight o’clock, the seven girls made ready to go to their appointment in a body, Blanche was still among the missing.