Part 23 (1/2)
”No,” said Betty, ”I'm not. I've studied logic and argument and I ought to know better than to depend on circ.u.mstantial evidence. I'm very, very sorry.”
Jean looked at her keenly. ”I suppose you and Eleanor have discussed this affair together. What did she think?”
”I haven't mentioned it to her since the afternoon we were at Miss Carter's, and she doesn't know that I wrote you. That day we both felt the same--that is, we didn't know what to think. If you don't mind, I should like to tell her that it's all right.”
”Why in the world should you bother to do that?” asked Jean curiously.
”Because she'll be so glad to know, and also because I think it's no more than fair to all of us. You did act very queerly that afternoon, Jean.”
”Oh, did I?” said Jean oddly. ”You have a queer idea of fairness. You won't work for me when I've put you on a committee for that express purpose; but no matter how disagreeable I am to you about it, you won't take a good chance to pay up, and you won't let Eleanor take hers.”
”Let Eleanor take hers?” repeated Betty wonderingly.
”Yes, her chance to pay up her score. She owes me a long one. You know a good many of the items. Why shouldn't she pay me back now that she has a good chance? You haven't forgotten Mary Brooks's rumor, have you?
Eleanor could start one about this condition business without half trying.”
”Well, she won't,” Betty a.s.sured her promptly. ”She wouldn't think of mentioning such a thing to anybody. But as long as we both misunderstood, I'm going to tell her that it's all right. Good-bye, Jean, and please excuse me for being so hasty.”
”Certainly,” said Jean, and Betty wondered, as she ran down-stairs, whether she had only imagined that Jean's voice shook.
The next afternoon Mr. Masters and the committee, deciding that Jean's Ba.s.sanio was possibly just a shade more attractive than Mary Horton's, gave her the part. Kate Denise was Portia, and everybody exclaimed over the suitability of having the lovers played by such a devoted pair of friends. As for Betty, she breathed a sigh of relief that it was all settled at last. Jean had won the part strictly on her merits, and she fully understood Betty's construction of a committee-woman's duty to the play. Nevertheless Betty felt that, in spite of all their recent contests and differences of opinion, they came nearer to being friends than at any time since their freshman year, and she wasn't sorry that she had gone more than halfway in bringing about this happy result.
Meanwhile the date of the Glee Club concert was fast approaching.
Georgia Ames came in one afternoon to consult Betty about the important matter of dress.
”I suppose that, as long as we're going to sit in a box, I ought to wear an evening gown,” she said.
”Why, yes,” agreed Betty, ”if you can as well as not. It's a very dressy occasion.”
”Oh, I can,” said Georgia sadly. ”I've got one all beautifully spick and span, because I hate it so. I never feel at home in anything but a s.h.i.+rt-waist. Beside my neck looks awfully bony to me, but mother says it's no different from most people's. The men are coming, I suppose?”
”Oh, yes, they're coming,” a.s.sented Betty gaily, ”and between us we've been asked to every tea on the campus, I should think. So they ought to have a good time in the afternoon, and college men are always crazy over our concerts.”
”Your man will be all right,” said Georgia admiringly, ”and I'll do my best for the other one. Truly, Betty, I am grateful to you. I think it's awfully good of you to ask me. Even if you asked me because I'm the other Georgia's namesake, you wouldn't do it if you didn't like me a little for myself, would you?”
”Of course not, you silly child,” laughed Betty.
”I want you to have my reserved seat for the basket-ball game,” went on Georgia. ”The subs each have one seat to give away, and I've swapped mine with a soph.o.m.ore, so you can sit on your own side.”
”I shall clap for you, though,” Betty told her, ”and I hope you'll get a chance to play. The other Georgia wasn't a bit athletic, so your basket-ball record will never be mixed with hers.”
Betty repeated Georgia's remark about being nothing but the other Georgia's namesake to Madeline. ”I think she really worries about it,”
she added.
Madeline only laughed at her. ”She hasn't seemed quite so gay lately--that probably means warnings from her beloved instructors at midyears. It must be awfully hard work to keep up the freshman grind with everybody under the sun asking you to do things. Georgia hates to snub people, so she goes even when she'd rather stay at home. Twice lately I've met her out walking with the Blunderbuss. I must talk to her about the necessity of being decently exclusive.”
CHAPTER XIII