Betty Wales, Freshman

by Harriet Pyne Grove

  CHAPTER XIX

  A LAST CHANCE

  Helen's choice of closed windows in preference to invading companies ofmoths and June-bugs had made the room so insufferably warm that betweenheat and excitement Betty could not get to sleep. Instead she tossedrestlessly about on her narrow couch, listening to the banging of thetrolleys at the next corner and wishing she were still sitting on thebreezy front seat, as the car dashed down the long hill toward thestation. At length she slipped softly out of bed and opened the door.Perhaps the breeze would come in better then. As she stood for a momenttesting the result of her experiment, she noticed with surprise thatEleanor's door was likewise open. This simple fact astonished her,because she remembered that on the hottest nights last fall Eleanor hadpersisted in shutting and locking her door. She had acquired the habitfrom living so much in hotels, she said; she could never go to sleep atall so long as her door was unfastened. "Perhaps it's all right,"thought Betty, "but it looks queer. I believe I'll just see if she's inbed." So she crept softly across the hall and looked into Eleanor'sroom. It was empty, and the couch was in its daytime dress, covered withan oriental spread and piled high with pillows. "I suppose she stoppedon the campus and got belated," was Betty's first idea. "But no, shecouldn't stay down there all night, and it's long after ten. It must behalf past eleven. I'll--I'd better consult--Katherine."

  She chose Katherine instead of Rachel, because she had heard Eleanorspeak about going to Paradise, and so could best help to decide whetherit was reasonable to suppose that she was still there. Rachel wassteadier and more dependable, but Katherine was resourceful andquick-witted. Besides, she was not a bit afraid of the dark.

  She was sound asleep, but Betty managed to wake her and get her into thehall without disturbing any one else.

  "Goodness!" exclaimed Katherine, when she heard the news. "You don'tthink----"

  "I think she's lost in Paradise. It must have been pitch dark down thereunder the trees even before she got started, and you know she hasn't anysense of direction. Don't you remember her laughing about getting turnedaround every time she went to New York?"

  "Yes, but it doesn't seem possible to get lost on that little pond."

  "It's bigger than it looks," said Betty, "and there is the mist, too, toconfuse her."

  "I hadn't thought of that. Does she know how to manage a boat?"

  "Yes, capitally," said Betty in so frightened a voice that Katherinedropped the subject.

  "She's lost up stream somewhere and afraid to move for fear of hitting arock," she said easily. "Or perhaps she's right out in the pond by theboat-house and doesn't dare to cross because she might go too far downtoward the dam. We can find her all right, I guess."

  "Then you'll come?" said Betty eagerly.

  "Why, of course. You weren't thinking of going alone, were you?"

  "I thought maybe you'd think it was silly for any one to go. I supposeshe might be at one of the campus houses."

  "She might, but I doubt it," said Katherine. "She was painfully intenton solitude when she left here. Now don't fuss too long about dressing."

  Without a word Betty sped off to her room. She was just pulling arain-coat over a very meagre toilet when Katherine put her head in atthe door. "Bring matches," she said in a sepulchral whisper. Bettyemptied the contents of her match-box into her ulster pocket, threw acape over her arm for Eleanor, and followed Katherine cat-footed downthe stairs. In the lower hall they stopped for a brief consultation.

  "Ought we to tell Mrs. Chapin?" asked Betty doubtfully.

  "Eleanor will hate us forever if we do," said Katherine, "and I don'tsee any special advantage in it. If we don't find her, Mrs. Chapincan't. We might tell Rachel though, in case we were missed."

  "Or we might leave a note where she would find it," suggested Betty."Then if we weren't missed no one need know."

  "All right. You can go more quietly; I'll wait here." Katherine sankdown on the lowest stair, while Betty flew back to scribble a note whichshe laid on Rachel's pillow. Then the relief expedition started.

  It was very strange being out so late. Before ten o'clock a girl may goanywhere in Harding, but after ten the streets are deserted anddreadful. Betty shivered and clung close to Katherine, who marchedboldly along, declaring that it was much nicer outdoors than in, andthat midnight was certainly the top of the evening for a walk.

  "And if we find her way up the river we can all camp out for the night,"she suggested jovially.

  "But if we don't find her?"

  Katherine, who had noticed Betty's growing nervousness, refused toentertain the possibility.

  "We shall," she said.

  "But if we don't?" persisted Betty.

  "Then I suppose we shall have to tell somebody who--who could--why, huntfor her more thoroughly," stammered Katherine. "Or possibly we'd betterwait till morning and make sure that she didn't stay all night with MissDay. But if we don't find her, there will be plenty of time to discussthat."

  At the campus gateway the girls hesitated.

  "Suppose we should meet the night-watchman?" said Betty anxiously."Would he arrest us?"

  Katherine laughed at her fears. "I was only wondering if we hadn'tbetter take the path through the orchard. If we go down by thedwelling-houses we might meet him, of course, and it would be awkwardgetting rid of him if he has an ordinary amount of curiosity."

  "But that path is spooky dark," objected Betty.

  "Not so dark as the street behind the campus," said Katherine decidedly,"and that's the only alternative. Come on."

  When they had almost reached the back limit of the campus Katherinehalted suddenly. Betty clutched her in terror. "Do you see any one?" shewhispered. Katherine put an arm around her frightened little comrade."Not a person," she said reassuringly, "not even the ghost of mygrandmother. I was just wondering, Betty, if you'd care to go ahead downto the landing and call, while I waited up by the road. Eleanor is sucha proud thing; she'll hate dreadfully to be caught in this fix, and Iknow she'd rather have you come to find her than me or both of us. Butperhaps you'd rather not go ahead. It is pretty dark down there."

  Betty lifted her face from Katherine's shoulder and looked at the blackdarkness that was the road and the river bank, and below it to the pondthat glistened here and there where the starlight fell on its cloak ofmist.

  "Of course," said Katherine after a moment's silence, "we can keeptogether just as well as not, as far as I am concerned. I only thoughtthat perhaps, since this was your plan and you are so fond ofEleanor--oh well, I just thought you might like to have the fun ofrescuing her," finished Katherine desperately.

  "Do you mean for me to go ahead and call, and if Eleanor answers not tosay anything to her about your having come?"

  "Yes."

  "Then how would you get home?"

  "Oh, walk along behind you, just out of sight."

  "Wouldn't you be afraid?"

  "Hardly."

  "But I should be taking the credit for something I hadn't done."

  "And Eleanor would be the happier thereby and none of the rest of theworld would be affected either way."

  Betty looked at the pond again and then gave Katherine a soft littlehug. "Katherine Kittredge, you're an old dear," she said, "and if youreally don't mind, I'll go ahead; but if she asks me how I dared to comealone or says anything about how I got here, I shall tell her that youwere with me."

  "All right, but I fancy she won't be thinking about that. The matchesare so she can see her way to you. It's awfully hard to follow a soundacross the water, but if you light one match after another she can getto you before the supply gives out, if she's anywhere near. Don't lightany till she answers. If she doesn't answer, I'll come down to you andwe'll walk on up the river a little way and find her there."

  "Yes," said Betty. "Where shall you stay?"

  "Oh, right under this tree, I guess," answered Katherine carelessly.

  "Good-bye."

  "Good-bye."

  When Betty had fairly gone,
doubts began to assail Katherine, as theyhave a habit of assailing impulsive people, after it is too late to payheed to them. It occurred to her that she was cooperating in what mighteasily turn out to be a desperate adventure, and that it would have beenthe part of wisdom to enlist the services of more competent and betterequipped searchers at once, without risking delay on the slender chanceof finding Eleanor near the wharf. "Eleanor would have hated thepublicity, but if she wants to come up here in the dark and frighten usall into hysteria she must take the consequences. And I'd have let hertoo, if it hadn't been for Betty."

  An owl hooted, and Katherine jumped as nervously as Betty would havedone. Poor Betty! She must be almost at the landing by this time. Atthat very moment a little quavering voice rang out over the water.

  "Eleanor! Eleanor Watson! Eleanor! Oh, Eleanor, where are you?"

  For a long moment there was silence. Then the owl hooted again. That wastoo much. Katherine jumped up with a bound and started down the banktoward Betty. She did not stop to find the path, and at the second stepcaught her foot and fell headlong. Apparently Betty did not hear her.She had not yet given up hope, for she was calling again, pausing eachtime to listen for the answer that did not come.

  "Oh, Eleanor, Eleanor, aren't you there?" she cried and stopped, eventhe courage of despair gone at last. Katherine, nursing a bruised kneeon the hill above, had opened her mouth to call encouragement, when alow "Who is it?" floated across the water.

  "Eleanor, is that you? It's I--Betty Wales!" shrieked Betty.

  Katherine nodded her head in silent token of "I told you so," and slidback among the bushes to recuperate and await developments.

  For the end was not yet. Eleanor was evidently far down toward the dam,close to the opposite bank. It was hard for her to hear Betty, and stillharder for Betty to hear her. Her voice sounded faint and far off, andshe seemed to be paralyzed with fear and quite incapable of furthereffort. When Betty begged her to paddle right across and began lightingmatches in reckless profusion to show her the way, Eleanor simplyrepeated, "I can't, I can't," in dull, dispirited monotone.

  "Shall--I--come--for--you?" shouted Betty.

  "You can't," returned Eleanor again.

  "Non--sense!" shrieked Betty and then stood still on the wharf,apparently weighing Eleanor's last opinion.

  "Go ahead," called Katherine in muffled tones from above.

  Betty did not answer.

  "Thinks I'm another owl, I suppose," muttered Katherine, and limped downthe bank to the wharf, frightening the nervous, overwrought Betty almostout of her wits at first, and then vastly relieving her by taking theentire direction of affairs into her own competent hands.

  "You go right ahead. It's the only way, and it's perfectly easy in aheavy boat. That canoe might possibly go down with the current, but abig boat wouldn't. Rachel and I tried it last week, when the river washigher. Now cross straight over and feel along the bank until you get toher. Then beach the canoe and come back the same way. Give me somematches. I'll manage that part of it and then retire,--unless you'drather be the one to wait here."

  "No, I'll go," answered Betty eagerly, vanishing into the boat-houseafter a pair of oars.

  "She must be hanging on to something on shore," went on Katherine, whenBetty reappeared, "and she's lost her nerve and doesn't dare to let go.If you can't get her into your boat, I'll come; but somebody reallyought to stay here. I had no idea the fog was so thick. Hurry now andcross straight over. You're sure you're not afraid?"

  "Quite sure." Betty was off, splashing her oars nervously through thestill water, wrapped in the mist, whispering over and over Katherine'slast words, "Hurry and go straight. Hurry, hurry, go straight across."

  When she reached the other shore she called again to Eleanor, and thesobbing cry of relief that answered her made all the strain and effortseem as nothing. Cautiously creeping along the bank where the river wascomparatively quiet, backing water now and then to test her strengthwith the current, she finally reached Eleanor, who had happened quite bychance to run near the bank and now sat in the frail canoe hanging byboth hands to a branch that swept low over the water, exactly asKatherine had guessed.

  "Why didn't you beach the canoe, and stay on shore?" asked Betty, whohad tied her own boat just above and was now up to her knees in thewater, pulling Eleanor in.

  "I tried to, but I lost my paddle, and so I was afraid to let go thetree again, and the water looked so deep. Oh, Betty, Betty!"

  Eleanor sank down on the bank, sobbing as if her heart would break.Betty patted her arm in silence, and in a few moments she stood up,quieted. "You're going to take me back?" she asked.

  "Of course," said Betty, cheerfully, leading the way to her boat.

  "Please wait a minute," commanded Eleanor.

  Betty trembled. "She's going to say she won't go back with me," shethought. "Please let me do it, Eleanor," she begged.

  "Yes," said Eleanor, quickly, "but first I want to say something. I'vebeen a hateful, horrid thing, Betty. I've believed unkind stories anddone no end of mean things, and I deserve all that I've had to-night,except your coming after me. I've been ashamed of myself for months,only I wouldn't say so. I know you can never want me for a friend again,after all my meanness; but Betty, say that you won't let it hurtyou--that you'll try to forget all about it."

  Betty put a wet arm around Eleanor's neck and kissed her cheek softly."You weren't to blame," she said. "It was all a mistake and my horridcarelessness. Of course I want you for a friend. I want it more thananything else. And now don't say another word about it, but just getinto the boat and come home."

  They hardly spoke during the return passage; Eleanor was worn out withall she had gone through, and Betty was busy rowing and watching forKatherine's matches, which made tiny, glimmering dots of light in thegloom. Eleanor did not seem to notice them, nor the shadowy figure thatvanished around the boat-house just before they reached the wharf.

  From her appointed station under the pine-tree Katherine heard thegrinding of the boat on the gravel, the rattle of oars thrown down onthe wharf, and then a low murmur of conversation that did not start upthe hill toward her, as she had expected.

  "Innocents!" sighed Katherine. "They're actually stopping to talk it outdown there in the wet. I'm glad they've made it up, and I'd do anythingin reason for Betty Wales, but I certainly am sleepy," and she yawned soloud that a blue jay that was roosting in the tree above her headfluttered up to a higher branch, screaming angrily.

  "The note of the nestle," laughed Katherine, and yawned again.

  Down on the wharf Betty and Eleanor were curled up close together in anindiscriminate, happy tangle of rain-coat, golf-cape, and very drabbledmuslin, holding a conversation that neither would ever forget. Yet itwas perfectly commonplace; Harding girls are not given to the expressionof their deeper emotions, though it must not therefore be inferred thatthey do not have any to express.

  "Oh, Betty, you can't imagine how dreadful it was out there!" Eleanorwas saying. "And I thought I should have to stay all night, of course.How did you know I hadn't come in?"

  Betty explained.

  "I don't see why you bothered," said Eleanor. "I'm sure I shouldn'thave, for any one as horrid as I've been. Oh, Betty, will you trulyforgive me?"

  "Don't say that. I've wanted to do something that would make you forgiveme."

  "Oh, I know you have," broke in Eleanor quickly. "Miss Ferris told me."

  "She did!" interrupted Betty in her turn. "Why, she promised not to."

  "Yes, but I asked her. It seemed to me queer that she should have takensuch an interest in me, and all of a sudden it flashed over me, as I sattalking to her, that you were at the bottom of it. So I said, 'MissFerris, Betty Wales asked you to say this to me,' and she said, 'Yes,but she also asked me not to mention her having done so.' I was ashamedenough then, for she'd made me see pretty plainly how badly I neededlooking after, but I was bound I wouldn't give in. Oh, Betty, haven't Ibeen silly!"

  "I didn't mean
to hurt your feelings by what I said at that classmeeting, Eleanor," said Betty shyly.

  "You didn't hurt them. I was just cross at things in general--at myself,I suppose that means,--and angry at you because I'd made you despise me,which certainly wasn't your fault."

  "Eleanor, what nonsense! I despise you?"

  A rustling on the bank reminded Betty that Katherine was waiting. "Wemust go home," she said. "It's after midnight."

  "So it is," agreed Eleanor, getting up stiffly. "Oh, Betty, I am gladI'm not out there hanging on to that branch and shivering and wonderinghow soon I should have to let go and end it all. Oh, I shall neverforget the feel of that stifling mist."

  They walked home almost in silence. Katherine, missing the murmur ofconversation, wondered if this last effort at reconciliation had failedafter all; but near Mrs. Chapin's the talk began again.

  "I'm only sorry there isn't more of spring term left to have a good timein. Why, Eleanor, there's only two weeks."

  "But there's all next year," answered Eleanor.

  "I thought you weren't coming back."

  "I wasn't, but I am now. I've got to--I can't go off letting peoplethink that I'm only a miserable failure. The Watson pride won't let me,Betty."

  "Oh, people don't think anything of that kind," objected Bettyconsolingly.

  "I know one person who does," said Eleanor with decision, "and her nameis Eleanor Watson. I decided while I was out there waiting for you thatone's honest opinion of herself is about as important as any outsider's.Don't you think so?"

  "Perhaps," said Betty gaily. "But the thing that interests me is thatyou're coming back next year. Why, it's just grand! Shall you go on thecampus?"

  CHAPTER XX

  LOOSE THREADS

  Betty Wales had to leave her trunk half packed and her room inindescribable confusion in order to obey a sudden summons from theregistrar. She had secured a room on the campus at last, so the briefnote said; but the registrar wished her to report at the office anddecide which of two possible assignments she preferred.

  "It's funny," said Betty to Helen, as she extracted her hat from behindthe bookcase, where she had stored it for safe keeping, "because I putin my application for the Hilton house way back last fall."

  "Perhaps she means two different rooms."

  "No, Mary says they never give you a choice about rooms, unless you'rean invalid and can't be on the fourth floor or something of that kind."

  "Well, it's nice that you're on," said Helen wistfully. "I don't supposeI have the least chance for next year."

  "Oh, there's all summer," said Betty hopefully. "Lots of people drop outat the last minute. Which house did you choose?"

  "I didn't choose any because Miss Stuart told me I would probably haveto wait till junior year, and I thought I might change my mind beforethen."

  "It's too bad," said Betty, picking her way between trunk trays andpiles of miscellaneous debris to the door. "I think I shall stop on myway home and get a man to move my furniture right over to the Hilton."

  "Oh, wouldn't it be lovely if I'd got into the Hilton house too!" saidHelen with a sigh of resignation. "Then perhaps we could room together."

  "Yes," said Betty politely, closing the door after her. Under thecircumstances it was not necessary to explain that Alice Waite and shehad other plans for the next year.

  It was a relief to stop trying to circumvent the laws of nature byforcing two objects into the space that one will fill--which is thecardinal principle of the college girl's June packing--and Bettystrolled slowly along under the elm-trees, in no haste to finish hererrand. On Main Street, Emily Davis, carrying an ungainly bundle,overtook her.

  "I was afraid I wasn't going to see you to say good-bye," she said."Everybody wants skirt braids put on just now, and between that andexaminations I've been very busy."

  "Are those skirts?" asked Betty.

  "Yes, two of Babbie's and one of Babe's. I was going up to the campus,so I thought I'd bring them along and save the girls trouble, sincethey're my best patrons, as well as being my good friends."

  "It's nice to have them both."

  "Only you hate to take money for doing things for your friends."

  "Where are you going to be this summer?" inquired Betty. "You never toldme where you live."

  "I live up in northern New York, but I'm not going home this summer. I'mgoing to Rockport----"

  "Why, so am I!" exclaimed Betty. "We're going to stay at The Breakers."

  "Oh, dear!" said Emily sadly, "I was hoping that none of my particularfriends would be there. I'm going to have charge of the linen-room atThe Breakers, Betty."

  "What difference does that make?" demanded Betty eagerly. "You havehours off, don't you? We'll have the gayest sort of a time. Can youswim?"

  "No, I've never seen the ocean."

  "Well, Will and Nan will teach you. They're going to teach me."

  Emily shook her head. "Now, Betty, you must not expect your family tosee me in the same light that you do. Here those things don't make anydifference, but outside they do; and it's perfectly right that theyshould, too."

  "Nonsense! My family has some sense, I hope," said Betty gaily, stoppingat the entrance to the Main Building. "Then I'll see you next week."

  "Yes, but remember you are not to bother your family with me. Good-bye."

  "Good-bye. You just wait and see!" called Betty, climbing the steps.Half-way up she frowned. Nan and mother would understand, but Will wasan awful snob. "He'll have to get used to it," she decided, "and hewill, too, after he's heard her do 'the temperance lecture by a femalefrom Boston.' But it will certainly seem funny to him at first. Why, Iguess it would have seemed funny to me last year."

  The registrar looked up wearily from the litter on her desk, as Bettyentered. "Good-afternoon, Miss Wales. I sent for you because I was surethat, however busy you might be you had more time than I, and I can talkto you much quicker than I could write. As I wrote you, I have reachedyour name on the list of the campus applicants, and you can go into theHilton if you choose. But owing to an unlooked-for falling out of namesjust below yours, Miss Helen C. Adams comes next to you on the list. Youhadn't mentioned the matter of roommates, and noticing that you twogirls live in the same house, I thought I would ask you if you preferreda room in the Belden house with Miss Adams. There are two vacanciesthere, and she will get one of them in any case."

  "Oh!" said Betty.

  "I shall be very glad to know your decision to-night if possible, sothat I can make the other assignment in the morning, before the nextapplicant leaves town."

  "Yes," said Betty.

  "You will probably wish to consult Miss Adams," went on the registrar."I ought to have sent for her too--I don't know why I was so stupid."

  "Oh, that's all right," said Betty hastily. "I will come back in aboutan hour, Miss Stuart. I suppose there isn't any hope that we could bothgo into the Hilton."

  "No, I'm afraid not. Any time before six o'clock will do. I shan't behere much longer, but you can leave the message with my assistant. Andyou understand of course that it was purely on your account that I spoketo you. I thought that under the circumstances----" The registrar wasdeep in her letters again.

  But as Betty was opening the door, she looked up to say with a merrytwinkle in her keen gray eyes, "Give my regards to your father, MissWales, and tell him he underrates his daughter's ability to take care ofherself."

  "Oh, Miss Stuart, I hoped you didn't know I was that girl," cried Bettyblushing prettily.

  Miss Stuart shook her head. "I couldn't come to meet you, but I didn'tforget. I've kept an eye on you."

  "I hope you haven't seen anything very dreadful," laughed Betty.

  "I'll let you know when I do," said Miss Stuart. "Good-bye."

  Betty went out on to the campus, where the shadows were beginning togrow long on the freshly mown turf, and took her favorite path back tothe edge of the hill, where she sat down on her favorite seat toconsider this new problem. On the slope below her
a bed of rhododendronsthat had been quite hidden under the snow in winter, and inconspicuousthrough the spring, had burst into a sudden glory of rainbowblossoms--pink and white and purple and flaming orange.

  "Every day is different here," thought Betty, "and the horrid things andthe lovely ones always come together."

  Helen would be pleased, of course; as she had hinted to the registrar,there was really no need of consulting Helen; the only person to beconsidered was Betty Wales. If only Miss Stuart had assigned her to theHilton house and said nothing!

  From her seat Betty could look over to Dorothy King's windows. It wouldhave been such fun to be in the house with Dorothy. Clara Madison wasgoing to leave the campus and go to a place where they would make herbed and bring her hot water in the morning. Alice's room was a lovelybig one on the same floor as Dorothy's, and she had delayed makingarrangements to share it with a freshman who was already in the house,until she was sure that Betty did not get her assignment. Eleanor hadapplied for an extra-priced single there, too, to be near Betty.

  Helen was a dear little thing and a very considerate roommate, but shewas "different." She didn't fit in somehow, and it was a bother alwaysto be planning to have her have a good time. She would be lonely in theBelden; she loved college and was very happy now, but she needed to havesomebody who understood her and could appreciate her efforts, toencourage her and keep her in touch with the lighter side of collegelife. She didn't know a soul in the Belden--but then neither did lots ofother freshmen when they moved on to the campus. She need never hearanything about the registrar's plan, and she could come over to theHilton as much as she liked.

  Nita Reese would be at the Belden, and Marion Lawrence; and Mary Brookswas going there if she could get an assignment. It was a splendid house,the next best to the Hilton. But those girls were not Dorothy King, andMiss Andrews was not Miss Ferris. It would have been lovely to be in thehouse with Miss Ferris.

  Would have been! Betty caught herself suddenly. It wasn't settled yet.Then she got up from her seat with quick determination. "I'll stop inand see Miss Ferris for just a minute, and then I shall go back and tellMiss Stuart right off, for I must finish packing to-night, whateverhappens."

  Miss Ferris was in, and she and her darkened, flower-scented room worean air of coolness and settled repose that was a poignant relief afterthe glaring sunshine outside and the confusion of "last days."

  "So you go to-morrow," said Miss Ferris pleasantly. "I don't get offtill next week, of course. Are you satisfied?"

  "Satisfied?" repeated Betty. She had heard of Miss Ferris's habit offlashing irrelevant questions at her puzzled auditors, but this was herfirst experience of it.

  "With your first year at Harding," explained Miss Ferris.

  "Oh!" said Betty, relieved that it was no worse. "Why, y-es--no, I'mnot. I've had a splendid time, but I haven't accomplished half that Iought. Next year I'm going to work harder from the very beginning,and----" Betty stopped abruptly, realizing that all this could notpossibly interest Miss Ferris.

  "And what?"

  "I didn't want to bore you," apologized Betty. "Why, I'm going to tryto--I don't know how to say it--try not scatter my thoughts so. Nan saysthat I am so awfully interested in every one's else business that Ihaven't any business of my own."

  "I see," said Miss Ferris musingly. "That's quite a possible point ofview. Still, I'm inclined to think that on the whole we have just asmuch orange left and it tastes far better, if we give a good deal of itaway. If we try to hang on to it all, it's likely to spoil in the pantrybefore we get around to squeeze it dry."

  Betty looked puzzled again.

  "You don't like figures of speech, do you?" said Miss Ferris. "You mustlearn to like them next year. What I mean is that it seems to me farbetter in the long run to be interested in too many people than not tobe interested in people enough. Of course, though, we mustn't neglect tobe sufficiently interested in ourselves; and how to divide ourselvesfairly between ourselves and the rest of the world is the hardestquestion we ever have to answer. You'll be getting new ideas about itall through your course--and all through your life."

  There was a moment of silence, and then Betty rose to go. "I have topack and I know you are busy. Miss Ferris, I'm going to be at the Beldennext year."

  "I'm sorry you're not coming here," said Miss Ferris kindly. "Couldn'tyou manage it?"

  "Yes, but the--the orange seems to cut better the other way," saidBetty. "That isn't a good figure, but perhaps you can see what itmeans."

  * * * * *

  It was worth most of what it had cost to see Helen's face when she heardthe news. "Oh Betty, it's too good to be true," she cried, "but are yousure you want me?"

  "Haven't I given up the Hilton to be with you?" said Betty, with herface turned the other way.

  Alice was disappointed, but she would be just as happy with ConstanceFayles. She found more "queer" things to like at Harding every day, andshe considered Betty Wales one of the queerest and one of the nicest.

  Eleanor pleased Betty by offering no objection to the change of plan."Only you needn't think that you can get rid of me as easily as allthis," she said. "I shall camp down in the registrar's office until shesays that 'under the circumstances,' which is her pet phrase, she willlet me change my application to the Belden. By the way, Betty, JeanEastman wants to see you after chapel to-morrow. She said she'd be innumber five."

  After "last chapel," with its farewell greetings, that for all but theseniors invariably ended with a cheerful "See you next September," andthe interview with Jean, in which the class president offered ratherunintelligible apologies for "the stupid misunderstanding that we allgot into," Betty went back to the house to get her bags and meetKatherine, who was going on the same train. Some of the girls hadalready gone, and none of them were in but Rachel, who was perched in afront window watching anxiously for a dilatory expressman, andKatherine, who was frantically stowing the things that would not go inher trunk into an already well-filled suit-case.

  "Well, it's all over," said Betty, sitting down on the window seatbeside Rachel.

  "Wish it were," muttered Katherine, shutting the case and sitting downon it with a thud.

  "No, it's only well begun," corrected Rachel.

  "A lot of things are over anyway," persisted Betty. "Just think how muchhas happened since last September!"

  "Jolly nice things too," said Katherine cheerfully. She had quiteunexpectedly succeeded in fastening the lock.

  "Weren't they!" agreed Betty heartily. "But I guess the nicest thingabout it is what you said, Rachel--that it's 'to be continued in ournext.' Won't it be fun to see how everything turns out?"

  "I wish that expressman would turn up," said Rachel ruefully.

  "We'll tell him so if we meet him," said Betty, shouldering her bag andher golf clubs, while Katherine staggered along with the burstingsuit-case.

  As they boarded a car at the corner, Mary Brooks and the faithfulRoberta waved to them energetically from the other side of Main Street.

  "Good-bye! Good-bye!" shrieked Katherine.

  "See you next September," called Betty, who had said good-bye to themonce already.

  "Katherine Kittredge has grown older this year," said Mary critically,"but Betty hasn't changed a bit. I remember the night she came up thewalk, carrying those bags."

  "She has changed inside," said Roberta.

  As the car whizzed by the Main Building, Betty wanted to wave her handto that too, but she didn't until Dorothy King, appearing on the frontsteps, gave her an excuse.

  "Well," she said with a little sigh, as the campus disappeared below thecrest of the hill, "you and Rachel may talk all you like, but I feel asif something was over, and it makes me sad. Just think! We can never befreshmen at Harding again as long as we live."

  "Quite true," said Katherine calmly, "but we can be sophomores--that is,unless the office sees fit to interfere."

  "Yes, we can be sophomores; and perhaps
that's just as nice," said Bettyoptimistically. "Perhaps it's even nicer."

  * * * * *

  The Books in this Series are:

  BETTY WALES, FRESHMAN BETTY WALES, SOPHOMORE BETTY WALES, JUNIOR BETTY WALES, SENIOR BETTY WALES, B. A. BETTY WALES & CO. BETTY WALES ON THE CAMPUS BETTY WALES DECIDES