“That’s all right,” whispered Molly. “It was much better for her to know because we would have been misrepresented always unless someone had told her, and we couldn’t exactly tell her ourselves. But I think it’s awfully nice of you to confess, Minerva. Now, we shall be better friends than ever.”
The two girls kissed each other. The cloak of vanity had slipped off and the smartest-girl-in-Mill-Town-High-School became her real natural self.
Until a quarter before ten the four girls laughed and talked pleasantly together, while the convivial fudge plate was passed from one to the other. But never once did Mill Town High School or comparative philology come into the conversation.
When at last the evening was at an end and Minerva had departed, Nance and Judy led Molly gravely to the divan.
“Now, tell us how you did it,” they demanded in one voice.
“I only told her the truth,” answered Molly, “but I didn’t put it so that it would hurt her. I said the reason why the girls were stand-offish was because they were afraid of her learning and her gold medals.”
“Marvelous, brilliant creature!” cried Judy, embracing her friend, while Nance laid a cheek against Molly’s.
“You are a perfect darling, Molly,” she said.