e discussions of
the most serious matters, had a touch of humor. "That is what surprised me
most. The girls are Christians, that is, the greater number are. But one
would have thought it was a reform school. I think those days are gone.
Every Senior and Middler is pledged to conduct examinations as they were
conducted this morning, and we are heartily glad."

"So say we all of us," was the cordial response.

They had come to the hall leading to the girls' dormitory. So far and no
farther could Dr. Kitchell walk with Miss Hobart. Elizabeth hurried to her
room. Loud tones came from her apartment. Opening the door quietly, she
peered in as though half afraid of what she might encounter. Mary Wilson
was pacing up and down the room. Her head was high. Her chest was
expanded. A glow of rhetorical enthusiasm was upon her cheeks and in her
eye. In one hand, she held several sheets of typewritten paper toward
which at intervals her glance wandered. The other hand sawed the air in
impressive, if not graceful, gesticulations.

She heeded not the entrance of her roommate. She continued orating in
tones which she was striving to make full and round. She gave a hurried
glance at her paper, strode up the room, flung out her hand and roared
forth, "I'm _charged_ with pride and ambition--"

"What did they _charge_ you for it?"

"The charge is true--"

"Well, then, Mary, all I can advise is to pay the bill and not say
anything more about it. If you haven't change enough, I can lend--"

"And I _glory in its truth_."

Sinking back in her chair as though this was too much to be borne,
Elizabeth sighed deeply, then said, "I'm surely surprised at you, Mary.
Affairs have come to a pretty pass when you're in debt and take glory in
it."

Mary laughed, tossed aside her paper, and coming over to her roommate, sat
down beside her. "It's my new oration. Miss Brosius called me into her
office, and gave me this to learn. It is really very fine--effective, if
my voice was not quite so high-pitched. Listen, I've learned so much
already." She tossed back her locks and assumed a rostrum manner, "'I'm
charged with pride and ambition. The charge is true and I glory in its
truth. Whoever achieved anything great in letters, art or arms who was not
ambitious? Caesar was not more ambitious than Cicero, it was only in
another way.' That's all I've learned. Miss Brosius went over so much with
me that I would get into the spirit of the piece. I wish you