Was it possible that Minerva was making game of them? They regarded her suspiciously, but she seemed sublimely unconscious.
“Why not study also the ancient tongue of the Basques?” asked Edith, quite gravely.
“That would be interesting,” replied Minerva, “but I want to get through this little college course first.”
Molly batted her heavenly eyes and suddenly burst out laughing.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be rude, but the course at Wellington doesn’t seem so small to us. We have to study all the time and then just barely pull through. I’ve almost flunked twice in mathematics. I wish I could call it a little course.”
“Ah, well, we are not all Minervas,” observed Margaret. “Some of us are just ordinary school girls learning the rudiments of education. We have not had the advantages of Mill Town High School, and if any of us have won gold medals we never show them.”
This measured rebuff, however, had no more effect on Minerva’s impervious vanity than a cup of water dashed against a granite boulder. She was already up, wandering about the room, boldly examining the girls’ belongings, ostentatiously reading the titles of books aloud.
“Plays by Molière. Oh, yes, I read them in the original two years ago. They’re easy. ‘Green’s Short History of the English People,’ very interesting book. ‘The Broad Highway.’ I never read fiction. Only biography and history——”
Edith Williams, stretched at her ease on the divan, gave an inaudible groan and turned her face to the wall.
Molly glanced helplessly about her.