Читать книгу Betty Wales, Junior. A Story for Girls онлайн

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Betty laughed. “So I was,” she said, “two hours ago. I was sure that all the fun was over.”

“And the moral of that,” said Mary, “is: Don’t judge of the ball until it has opened. Introduce me to your cousin, please, and then both of you are elected to come and help me eat five pounds of caramels.”

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They were all in number 27 Belden, which, in spite of its small size, or perhaps because its small size made it seem particularly cozy, was their favorite rendezvous during junior year. “They” means the “clan,” which had been developed from the “old guard” of freshman year by a few subtractions and several important additions. The three B’s belonged, of course, and Madeline Ayres and Nita Reese. Mary Brooks was the privileged senior member. Rachel met with the clan when she could, but her conditioned freshmen took up most of her spare time, and in her few leisure moments what she liked best was a quiet talk with Betty, or a brisk tramp through the woods with Katherine or Roberta. Eleanor Watson had never really fitted in with the rest of Betty’s friends, and now she was more of an outsider than ever. The story of her sophomore year had been circulated widely among the influential girls at Harding. Only the bare facts had leaked out, and there was no proof of them; but Eleanor’s previous career at Harding made it much easier to believe than to discredit such a story. Very few of the girls felt, as Mary Brooks did, that the resignation from Dramatic Club entitled Eleanor to any special consideration; and since young people are almost invariably cruel when they mean only to be just, Eleanor had had to brave both open scorn and veiled hostility. But she did not flinch. She was almost pathetically grateful to Mary and Marion Lawrence, to Miss Ferris, and to Rachel and Katherine, but she would not let Betty force her upon the rest of the clan.