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

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“I don’t know,” said Betty sadly. “Didn’t you come on the eight-fifteen?”

“I did,” returned Mary with decision. “Ever since I entered college I have heard about the joyousness of coming up on the eight-fifteen on an opening night. And now I get here on time for once, and the New York and the western trains are all fiendishly late. So I come up alone in my glory on that famous eight-fifteen, and instead of a gay and festive occasion such as I have been led to expect, I find an empty house—not a soul but you to talk to, and positively nothing doing. They seem to be all new girls on my corridor.”

“I don’t think you ought to refer to freshmen as an empty house,” said Betty severely, “and anyhow it serves you right for all the times you have cut over.”

“When did you come?” asked Mary, apparently considering that one topic had been pursued far enough. “You haven’t done all this”—she indicated the miscellaneous results of Betty’s unpacking by a sweeping gesture—“in just this one evening?”

“Rather not,” said Betty. “Mary, I’ve been here two whole days—not in the Belden of course, because it wasn’t open, but in Harding; and I think that if you hadn’t come just when you did, I should have—cried,” ended Betty, in a sudden burst of confidence.