s. Mr. Parsons, who played right
tackle on the Winsted team, had written that he was laid up with a lame
shoulder, which, greatly to his regret, would prevent his taking Betty
to his fraternity dance. Helen was toiling on a "lit." paper with a
zealous industry which got her up at distressingly early hours in the
morning, and was "enough to mad a saint," according to her exasperated
roommate, whose own brief effusion on the same subject had been hastily
composed in one evening and lay neatly copied in her desk, ready to be
handed in at the proper time. Moreover, "gym" had begun and Betty had
had the misfortune to be assigned to a class that came right in the
middle of the afternoon.

"It's a shame," she grumbled, fishing out her fountain pen which had
fallen off her desk and rolled under the bureau. "I shall change my lit.
to afternoon--that's only two afternoons spoiled instead of four--and
then tell Miss Andrews that I have a conflict. Haven't you finished that
everlasting paper?"

"No," said Helen meekly. "I'm sorry that I'm so slow. I'll go out if you
want to have the girls in here."

"Oh no," called Betty savagely, dashing out into the hall. Eleanor's
door was ornamented with a large sign which read, "Busy. Don't disturb."
But the door was half-way open, and in the dusky room, lighted, as
Eleanor liked to have it, by candles in old-fashioned brass sticks,
Eleanor sat on a pile of cushions in the corner, strumming softly on her
guitar.

"Come in," she called. "I put that up in case I wanted to study later.
Finished your lit. paper?"

Betty nodded. "It's awfully short."

"I'm going to do mine to-night--that and a little matter of Livy and
French and--let me see--Bible--no, elocution."

"Can you?" asked Betty admiringly.

"I'm not sure till I've tried. I've been meditating asking your roommate
to do the paper. Would you?"

"No," said Betty so emphatically that Eleanor stopped playing and looked
at her curiously.

"Why not? Do you think it's wrong to exchange her industry for my
dollars?"

Betty considered. She still admired Eleanor, but she had learned her
limitations. Her beauty wove a spell about all that she did, and she was
very clever and phenomenally quick when she cared to apply herself. But
she cared so seldom, roused herself only when she could gain prestige,
when there was something to manipulate, to manage. And apparently she
was not even to be trusted. Still, what was the use of quarreling wi