The girls made their way to the junior section, where Betty usually sat between Carolyn and Kathryn. The band was playing a lively air by way of escort. Some of the pupils were humming a little with the band and others were talking, though by general consent manners were such as control the usual crowd. They might not have been so good, it is true, had the pupils not known that the principal would tolerate no nonsense; and no one wanted to miss any assemblies, to pass the time in study, or to be sent home.
Lucia Coletti, still in America, still in Lyon High, sat directly in front of Betty and next to Peggy Pollard, who, it may be remembered, had joined the sorority, the “Kappa Upsilons,” to which Carolyn and Betty had been invited. Lucia (pronounced Lu-_chee_-a, in Italian fashion), looked back, as she pulled down the seat of her chair, and gave the girls a salute, very brief, but Dotty Bradshaw, near by, rather daringly asked, “is that a Fascisti salute, Lucia?”
“It’s a mixture, like me,” replied Lucia, not offended, her black eyes flashing an amused glance at Betty. “Listen, Betty,” she said. “I want to see you some time today. I want you to help me out on something.”
But the principal was now standing quietly on the platform, as was his custom, his very presence a check upon too vociferous converse. He clapped his hands together several times for quiet. Instantly the talking began to subside, then stopped as the attention of all was secured. All faces turned to the American flag, which stood in silken beauty of red, white and blue at the side of the platform. In the daily lesson of patriotism, pupils and teachers, led by the principal in clear, unhurried accents, repeated the pledge to the flag and country.
Lucia, half American, half Italian, probably born in some other foreign country, Betty thought, gave the salute with the rest, “out of courtesy,” she had told the girls. It was her mother’s flag, she said. Her father had another, and as for her she was going to _choose_ her country!
But Lucia, bright and interesting, very much alive to all the high school and city life, was possibly arriving at a better appreciation of some phases of America and its opportunities than some of the girls of American birth, and from the very difference of environment and customs.