“We can’t live on less food!” bluntly declared Lilian Swift.
“Nor plainer!” from a discontented one.
“It might be plainer without being less nourishing,” suggested Molly. “How about your doing some light housekeeping on your own hook and not trying to board with the college?”
“But I am sure the college authorities do not make money on the girls as it is,” said Billie McKym, who had come to the meeting from truly altruistic motives, as expenses made no difference to her personally. “If a great body of girls cannot be fed on the amount charged now, I am certain a girl could not live on less if she went in for herself.”
Billie, with all her wealth, had a good keen eye for business and understood the management of money rather better than any poor girl at Wellington.
“I reckon you are right,” said Molly sadly. “Would you girls mind if I ask my husband to come in and talk it over with you?”
“No!” in chorus. “Bring him in!”
“Not that knowing how to read Chaucer in old English will make him wise as how to live on nothing a year,” whispered one.
Professor Green was in the den with his cousin, old Major Fern, who had motored in from the country to have a chat with his favorite kinsman. Molly entered, smiling at the clouds of tobacco smoke which almost obscured the two gentlemen.
“Edwin, I know the Major will excuse you for a moment. I need you badly.”