Betty Wales, Sophomore

all the week-and up on the fourth floor of the Belden House Nita Reese was giving a birthday spread. Until she came to Harding, Nita

could get out of sending me a birthday box. Father wanted to know if that let him off from giving me a sailing p

thday box were arranged on tin-box covers and wooden plates. There were nine china plates for the twelve gues

d the screen with a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a tray of cake in the oth

iece of chocolate cake before Madeline Ay-Oh, Madeline, aren

omposedly. "You were implying that I'm a pi

manded Bob, popping up like a Jack- i

ignedly. "I've spilled it aga

of the couch and beginning on the nearest dish of strawberry ice. (The strawberry ice was not, stri

she was cooling a pan of fudge. "Girls, this fudge is going to be elegant and creamy. Reac

occupants of the c

hour, would you, Nita?" laughed Christy, sticking in the marsh- mallows in neat

ter that way, because it's newer," explained Alice Waite, who n

"I don't believe I shall ever be hungry aga

b, dropping back again on the p

ely. "As if you hadn't betted me six strawberry ices and three dinners

y to one of honeyed sweetness. "No," she said, "you're such an artistic preva

ose to Bob's prostrate form. "Girls," she shrieked, "it's true. Bob's blushing. She hasn't

sts, until in despair she turned her attention to Babe, who took refuge on the fire-escape

soon as she could make herself heard, "

coffee, and then the toast was drun

" called

ech!" chorus

nded Bob, sulkily. "You all know I

d Nita, consolingly. "

ut it. We're all sophom

d as a sophomore; so do

s

thing. It's not true sport to bet on a certainty, Bob. You know that you're sure

aid off to New York and engaged Emily Davis to do her mending. But the maid's board and wages were paid unquestioningly by her mother, who lamented every vacation that she could get no such excellent seamstresses as her da

ng to a poor, benighted little freshman. There's just one thing about Harding that I don't und

ted Christy. "Of course there's

w," muttered Bob, who

erfectly certain to go in. But in general, I mean, why will you never

dn't drag it out of any junior that she hopes for a pla

ore that she hopes to

sty

. You just take what people think you ought to have. You stand or fall b

ngs, and discuss their chances and agree to help one another along where

because we never admit we were t

ay best then," said

, who of us here do you think will make D

ard silence, then

ere, Marion Lustig will go in to-night of course,-she's our bright p

ikely to go into the Cl

a R

w that Beatrice Egerton is rushing her? And

d Nita. "I think Eleano

b k

lub kind? You say the Dramatic Club isn't particularly dramatic nowadays, but just amusin

ou're a sophomore. The Clio girls-oh, they have more executive ability. They're the kind that know how to run

ice-president of the D

tt

the exc

xecutive ability, and they both want people who can write and act and sing and do parlor stunts. I don't know Eleanor Watson very well, but

Betty Wales under he

g she told Helen al

exciting,

exciting?" demanded

ill be done in time, and whether it will be good, and who's going to be there, and ho

hey to-

s this year, you know, and Clio Club has second; and we we

know now,

of girls came up to Mrs. Chapin's after Mary Brooks, and she'd gone down-town to breakfast with Roberta, and was going to cut chapel; and how we all rushed down after her, and how I stayed at the Main Street cor

mber about it," admitted Helen.

they elect only four at a time, you know-have about sixty ti

e disorderly pile of books and papers on Betty's desk, and at the pictures which she had brought back at C

can borrow some picture wire" she added. "I remember now that mine is all gone. That's why I've left them on the floor so long. But somebody must have some." At the door she turned back suddenly

bmissively. "Who do you th

anything? We think Bob will go in; she can do such beautiful pantomimes, and she's such a prod. and such jolly fun too. Then Marion Lustig becau

alizing, don't-you- wish-you-knew air, and after dinner when the whole house assembled in the parlors as usual for coffe

le from the college in quite another direction-the committee and its escort finally reached the campus, and, gaining recruits at every step, made its picturesque and musical way to the Westcott House after Bob. At this point Betty and Nita joined it, and they had the exquisite pleasure of seeing Bob blush so red that there was no

th the Dramatic Club pin on it. And in spite of the lateness of the hour and the wild desire of the procession to kn

ey were going to the Hilton! They weren't stopping on the se

fore she could give Eleanor her note of invitation to the society Beatric

Just as if she'd been expecting it," said little Alice Waite, who had joined the procession as it passed thr

h of violets she was wearing,-"just till I could bring them to you," she explained,-and carried Eleanor off to sit among the seniors at chapel. Just

t!" She glanced at her shabby coat, made over from Babe's discarded golf cape, and then at Eleanor Watson's irreproachabl

her voice. Dorothy King was not at all sentimental, but the splendidly d

Watson's lovely face. That was when Katherine Kittredge, o

ss Raymond got up early

onnection with her election to the Dramatic Club. Eleanor frowned

cause of that footless little story? Wasn't it f

us popularity. "Of course we wanted you for yourself," she said, "but that footless little story, as you

doing anything up here. What you do once, you are expected to repeat indefinitely.

in," said Miss Egerton. "And now, Eleanor, I must be off to Psycholo

to come, of course. And Eleanor," she went on, after Miss Egerton had left them, "we want you to answer to a toast-

ou have that story mentioned-even mentioned, remember-to- night, I shall get up and

said, "but I thought you had given up being so absurd. Is

ff, murmuring something about a nine o'clock r

y grimace, and then pursued her way to the college library. At th

"Isn't it perfectly splend

the front row at chapel. I wonder if Eleanor remembers any of the remarks she used to let drop about the genius of 19-. See here, Betty,

ut she didn't tell me anything ex

irst four," said Jean, opening the library door and tiptoeing over to the anthropological alcove. There she spent t

hrough "My Story and How I Wrote It," and "The Rewards of Literature" and "O

rang, and she picked up her books and hurried off to recite a Fren

ould come back. But though Eleanor professed the greatest pleasure in the election, it did not seem to make her any less haughty or capricious, or any better content with life. She still snubbed or patronized her train of adoring freshmen by turns, according to her mood. She was still a devoted admirer o