Betty Wales, Sophomore

tell her that the Students' Commission wanted to hold a mass-meeting of the whole college at the end of the month, and waited while Miss Stuart, who was an enthusiastic supporter of the commission,

or the afternoon, and there would be ten girl

get her skates and her sweater. As she put out her hand to open the door, she suddenly noticed that she was still carrying Frances' lett

semi-social functions, was generally silent and deserted earlier in the day; and the quiet and the view over Paradise river from the west windows of the sanctum appealed to the poetic soul of the chief editor. Dorothy, who was a very practical person herself, had a vast admiration for Frances' dreamy, imaginative temperament, and enjoyed her work as business manager of the "Argus" chiefly because it brought her into close contact with Frances; while Frances in he

Dorothy had come to know well and to like for her quick wit and her daring, piquant ways,

n Dorothy opened the door. "We though

ired Dorothy curiously, tossin

Beatrice, with a fu

the sanctum, with a groan and a gesture of despair. "I entirely forgot,

e I don't know," she said. "You told me that to-day

ethodical Dottie King trying to persuade the poetical and always-behind-time Frances to put off till to-m

that we've got our new rugs and these lovely green curtains. So I bought a calendar pad a

dly before the writing-table, pulled a long strip of printer's proof off the spindle, and

didn't come, I tried to correct proof with Frances, but we couldn't either of us remember the printers' marks; a

, "because I can correct proof, but I can't spell, and neithe

help. The work went on rapidly, Dorothy bending over the long printers' galleys, adding mysterious little marks here and there in the wide margins, Frances reading as expressively as though she were doing her best to entertain Beatrice Eger

chair and stretching out her cramped arms over her head. "Next

e marks.' That's what she'll say. You shouldn't be so capable, Dottie, and then you could go

Laura is a great deal of help with some parts of the work, and I don't blame any one for not wanting to corr

woodsy green,"

ed Beatrice, who loved to tease Frances, though in

thy, rising abruptly, "and I must go. I

nces," she said, "do just open this letter, and tell me that it's dreadfully important. I want to bother Laur

reamily. She was watching the sunset glowing

u prefer that to good green- shaded electricity. You owe it to Dorothy to take an interest when she bothered herself

ills's neglecting to call for a recitation on Ward's "Poe

ly. "I don't understand. Isn't t

"You knew from that wonderfu

he question. "Then-Wh

Where has it be

k. Perhaps it was there a week or two before she saw it. Is it really important, Frances? Lauri

d Frances, in bewilderment. "Read it,"

ud," suggest

nces. "I haven't any

uiver'

n St.,

. 2,

FRANCE

n-Chief o

ege '

our contributors, contained in your December number, which, owing to my prolonged absence from the city, has just now come under my observation, is, to speak bluntly, deserving of some return from me. I have no doubt that you will be glad to offe

confide

ARD B

carefully and putting it back in its en

e, "nothing at all. Who

ak

ow. Don't y

'The Quiver' is a magazine. I

tly, "Richard Blake must be

ing about him in the De

anything about

Quiver' isn't a college magazine, is it, Fran

agazine, Dorothy. It's new, I think, but I know Miss Raymo

ly, "I'm sure this editor must be insane. T

h once more, and passed it without comment to Beatrice. Mean

at last. "Didn't he s

rice, joining-Frances in her s

t last, reading down the

at Harding'-he wouldn't

nly isn't in that. The

essay on 'Sweet

Dorothy, hopefully. "It sounds as

nth century essayists, I guess, Dottie. He's not in 'Sweetness a

sketches," went on Frances, anxiously, "nor

to the note, "he doesn't tell us the name of his contributor-the simpleton! That's what we

Frances' hands. "The contributor is a member of the faculty, and th

y notes failed to unearth any ite

uldn't explain what he says about college honor. And what is this about 'of

under, and he noticed it. And to-day is the twentieth; he evidently

o press-or 'The Quiver' went to press-to-day, it's gone hours ago. You'd better wr

write?" asked Fr

g on clearness," suggest

in Dorothy. "This is ev

you didn't know what

e explain why you hav

" asked Frances. "I should never dar

was no sound in the sanctum but the scratching of Frances' pen, moving swiftly over the

," said Dorothy,

ds me of that verse of Marion Lustig's that was more obs

at, until we know exactly what Mr. Richard Blake m

he sensation that the story of the mysterious letter would create. "Dottie," she went on

hy quietly, "but I think eight girls are too many to k

ght," agreed Frances.

ng the others. If it's s

could correct it if o

her that would be quite

round Frances' waist a

d of your beloved 'Argus.' I believe you

eagle eye," laughed Dorothy, locking the door and carefully hid

's biscuit and a glass of milk. The library was very quiet. She read busily, concentrating her attention upon the pages before her, oblivious of her

behind her and clasped two h

whispered a l

nswered Dorothy a

her?" demanded the

what t

er to Fra

away the hands and turning to find Mary an

through with that b

e in peace for ten minut

the letter," demanded Mar

a note of thanks, or something of the sort from

"That's no good for a

d Dorothy. "I shouldn't

ng than that. Come, Mary, leave her alone, so that I can have

hed on the evening of the twentieth. Two days later Frances, looking as if she had

right after lunch?" she ask

Dorothy. "You've

nd oh, Dorothy, it

e sanctum that afternoo

r. Without a word Franc

MISS WEST

hot the mark. So let me say, please, since you and your colleagues evidently do not read 'The Quiver' that a story in your December number by a Miss Eleanor Watson is practically a copy of one that appeared in our November issue,

e neither you nor your

oung, and plagiar

very

ARD B

, without exhibiting the least surpris

. "There must be so

ind the stor

tson didn't copy it. No Hardin

n is different

. "You don't think it was a coincidence? Frances knew o

idn't tell you girls the other day, when it occurred to me that this was what Mr. Blake meant. Can't you see that it explains everything? Don't

ght it such a good joke. Oh, let us go and ask he

Dorothy and stopped,

tri

old idealist," she said, pulling Frances down on the seat beside her. "Can't you see that appealing to Eleanor Watson wouldn't do at all? Can't you see that

hy gently, "you see there is still Mr. Blake. I d

, what with my having put her up for Dramatic Club and all that. But frankly, I don't see what there is to do but let Mr. Richard Blake go ahead and say what he pleases. Eleanor Watson will proba

added Frances softly. To her art was sac

ence broken at

reason out. This affair is unpleasant for everybody concerned, but it isn't a vital matter to us o

world for her," broke in Beatrice, who was growing more angry w

one am not at all sure what to think. Being publicly humiliated

t over, and let us be oh! so careful not even to hint at what has happened. We may have to confide in some others, but let

ted Beatrice. "This pl

e college world; Frances mingled pity for Eleanor with jealousy for the fair name of the "Argus"; Dorothy was going over the career of Eleanor Watson since she entered Harding, wondering whether it would be possible, by any method of treatment, to make her over into a trustworthy member of the stu