The two girls went down to the village that afternoon to see the last trainload of students pull out of Wellington station, and later to make some purchases at the general store. It was Christmas Eve and the streets were filled with shoppers from the country around Wellington. Molly was trying to recall the words of a poem she had heard ages back, the rhythm of which was beating in her head, and Judy was endeavoring to explain to herself why she felt neither homesick nor blue on this the first Christmas ever spent away from her parents.
They paused to look in at the window of a florist who did a thriving business in Wellington. A motor car was waiting in front of the shop.
“We must have some Christmas decorations, too,” exclaimed Judy about to enter, when the way was blocked by a crowd of people coming out. “What pretty girls!” continued Judy in a whisper, looking admiringly at two young women who came first.
The prettiest one, who had red hair not unlike Molly’s and brown eyes, called over her shoulder:
“Edwin, I shan’t save you a seat beside me unless you’re there to claim it.”
“I’ll be there, Alice, never fear,” answered Professor Green, hurrying after her with an armload of holly and cedar garlands.
Molly stood rooted to the spot while the shoppers crowded into the car.
“If I could only tell him how sorry I am for that cruel speech,” she thought.
With a sudden determination, she rushed toward the car, calling:
“Professor!”