After she had performed all necessary introductions, wicked Katherine Williams remarked:
“Minnie is a very charming name, but I insist on calling you ‘Minerva’ after the Goddess of Wisdom. She never wore gold medals, but then it wasn’t the fashion among the early Greeks.”
Minerva’s face was the picture of complacency.
“In Greece she would have been ‘Athene,’” she observed.
There was a loud clearing of throats and Judy, as usual, was seized with a violent fit of coughing.
“Sit down here, Miss Higgins—I mean Minnie,” said Molly hastily. “The tea will be ready in a minute.”
“You have been to college before, Minerva?” asked Edith Williams solemnly.
Minerva looked somewhat surprised.
“Oh, no. Not college. I am just out of High School. Mill Town High School is a very wonderful educational institution, you know. Perhaps you have heard of it. A diploma from there will admit a girl into any of the best colleges in the country. I could have gone to a private school. My father is professor of Greek at the Academy in Mill Town, but I preferred to take advantage of the high standards of the High School, which are even higher than those of the Academy.”
“I suppose your father’s taste in Greek caused him to name you Minerva,” observed Judy.