Ruth. "That isn't so."

"I see it now," agreed the other girl, shortly. "But we always have had
to make a bluff at our house. Since _I_ can remember, at least.
Grandfather was wealthy; but our generation is as poor as Job's turkey.

"I didn't want to appear poor when I arrived here; so I got out the old
bags and the big trunk, filled them with papers, and brought them along.
A friend lent me that car I arrived in. I--I thought I'd make a splurge
right at first, and then my social standing would not be questioned."

"Oh, Rebecca! How foolish," murmured Ruth.

"Don't say that!" stormed the girl. "I see that I started all wrong. But
I can't help it now," and suddenly she burst into a passion of weeping.

CHAPTER XVII

WHAT WAS IN REBECCA'S HEART

It was some time before Ruth could quiet the almost hysterical girl.
Rebecca Frayne had held herself in check so long, and the bitterness of
her position had so festered in her mind, that now the barriers were
burst she could not control herself.

But Ruth Fielding was sympathetic. And her heart went out to this lonely
and foolish girl as it seldom had to any person in distress. She felt,
too, did Ruth, as though it was partly her fault and the fault of the
other freshmen that Rebecca was in this state of mind.

She was fearful that having actually forced herself upon Rebecca that
the girl might, when she came to herself, turn against her. But at
present Rebecca's heart was so full that it spilled over, once having
found a confidant.

In Ruth Fielding's arms the unfortunate girl told a story that, if
supremely silly from one standpoint, was a perfectly natural and not
uncommon story.

She was a girl, born and brought up in a quiet, small town, living in
the biggest and finest house in that town, yet having suffered actual
privations all her life for the sake of keeping up appearances.

The Frayne family was supposed to be wealthy. Not as wealthy as a
generation or so before; still, the Fraynes were looked upon as the
leaders in local society.

There was now only an aunt, Rebecca, a younger sister, and a brother who
was in New York struggling upward in a commission house.

"And if it were not for the little Fred can spare me and sends me twice
a month, I couldn't stay here," Rebecca confessed during this long talk
with Ruth. "He's the best boy who ever lived."

"He must be," Ruth agreed. "I'd be glad to have a brother like that."

Rebecca had been hungry