ell, I think she does, but I never told her I thought so. It couldn't
be that."

"Then why did she ask you?" demanded Mary.

"I suppose because she wanted me," said Helen happily. "I can't think of
any other reason. Isn't it lovely?"

"Yes indeed," agreed Mary. "It's so grand that I'm going off this minute
to tell everybody in the house about it. They'll be dreadfully envious,"
and she left the roommates alone.

Helen pulled off her best gloves carefully, and laid them neatly away,
then she put up her hat and coat and sat down in her favorite wicker
chair. "I guess I left the room in a dreadful muss this noon," she said
apologetically. "I guess I acted silly and excited, but you see--I said
I hadn't been out often--this is the very first time I've been invited
out to a meal since I came to Harding."

"Really?" said Betty, thinking guiltily of her own multitude of
invitations.

"Yes, I hoped you hadn't any of you noticed it. I hate to be pitied. Now
you can just like me."

"Just like you?" repeated Betty vaguely.

"Yes. Don't you see? I'm not left out any more." She hesitated, then
went on rapidly. "You see I had a lovely time at first, at the sophomore
reception and the frolic and all, but it stopped and--this was a good
while coming, and I got discouraged. Wasn't it silly? I--oh, it's all
right now. I wouldn't change places with anybody." She began to rock
violently. Betty had noticed that Helen rocked when other girls sang or
danced jigs.

"But I thought--we all thought," began Betty, "that you had decided you
preferred to study--that you didn't care for our sort of fun. You
haven't seemed to lately."

"Not since it came over me why you girls here in the house were nice to
me when nobody else was except Theresa," explained Helen with appalling
frankness. "You were sorry for me. I thought it out the day after you
gave me the violets. Before I came to Harding," she went on, "I did
think that college was just to study. It's funny how you change your
mind after you get here--how you begin to see that it's a lot bigger
than you thought. And it's queer how little you care about doing well in
class when you haven't anything else to care about." She gave a little
sigh, then got up suddenly. "I almost forgot; I have a message for
Adelaide. And by the way, Betty, I saw your Miss Hale; she and somebody
else were just going in to see Miss Mills when I left."

She had scarcely gone when Mary sauntered back as if by a