"See you next June for sure. I'm coming back then, if I do live away out in Seattle."
"You're going to study art in New York, you say? Oh, I'm there very often. Here, let me copy that address."
"Going abroad for the summer, you lucky girl? Well, rather not! I'm going to tutor six young wigglers into a prep. school."
"Wasn't last night fun? Don't you wish we could have it all over again,--except the midyears and the papers for English novelists."
But these weren't the good-byes that came hardest; those would be said later in the dear, dismantled rooms or at the station, for very close friends would arrange to meet again there. But the close friendships would be kept up in letters and visits, whereas these casual acquaintances might never again be renewed.
"I've seen you nearly every day for three years," Madeline Ayres told little Miss Avery, whose name came next to hers on the class-list, "and now you're going to live in Iowa and I'm going to Italy. The world is a big place, isn't it?"
But Nita Reese thought it was surprisingly small when she found that Emily Davis was going to teach French in the little town where she lived, and Betty got a great deal of comfort from the fact that four other 19-- girls lived in Cleveland.
"Though I can't believe it's really over," Betty confided to Bob. "I don't feel a bit like an alum."
"That's because you still look just like a freshman," returned Bob, unfeelingly. "I'll bet you a trolley-ride to any place you choose that you'll be taken for one before you leave Harding."
Sure enough Betty, hurrying across the campus a moment later to intercept the man who had promised to crate her desk and then never come for it, was stopped by a timid little sub-freshman with her hair in a braid, who inquired if she was going to take the "major French" examination, and did she know whether it came at eleven or twelve o'clock?
"So we're all got to go off on a trolley-ride," shouted Bob jubilantly, and though Betty protested and called Helen to witness that she hadn't promised Bob any trolley-ride whatever, everybody agreed that they ought to have one last picnic somewhere before they separated. So they all hurried home to do what Katherine called "tall strides of work," and at four o'clock they were waiting, with tempting-looking bags and bundles tucked under their arms, for a car.