tell you. You remember the evening when I
found four of you in Rachel and Katherine's room writing deceitful
letters to your fond parents. Well, I had been racking my brains for
weeks for a pleasing and original theme subject. You know you are
supposed to spend two hours a week on this theme course, and I had spent
two hours for four weeks in just thinking what to write. I'm not sure
whether that counts at all and I didn't like to ask--it would have been
so conspicuous. So I was in despair when I chanced upon your happy
gathering and was saved. Miss Raymond read it in class to-day,"
concluded Mary triumphantly.

"You didn't put us into it--our letters!" gasped Roberta.

"Indeed I did," said Mary. "I put them all in, as nearly as I could
remember them, and Miss Raymond read it in class, and made all sorts of
clever comments about college customs and ideals and so on. I felt
guilty, because I never had anything read before, and of course I didn't
exactly write this because the letters were the main part of it. So
after class I waited for Miss Raymond and explained how it was. She
laughed and said that she was glad I had an eye for good material and
that she supposed all authors made more or less use of their
acquaintance, and when I went off she actually asked me to come and see
her. My junior friends are hoping it will pull me into a society and I'm
hoping it will avert a condition."

"Where is the theme?" asked Eleanor. "Won't you read it to us?"

"It's--why, I forgot the very best part of the whole story. Sallie Hill
has it for the 'Argus.' She's the literary editor, you know, and she
wants it for the next number. So you see you are famous.

"Why don't some of you elect this work?" asked Mary, when the excitement
had somewhat subsided. "It's open to freshmen, and it's really great
fun."

"I thought you said that you spent eight hours and were in despair----"
began Eleanor.

"So I was," said Mary. "I declare I'd forgotten that. Well, anyhow I'm
sure I shan't have any trouble now. I think I've learned how to go at
it. Why, do you know, girls, I have an idea already. Not for a
theme--something else. It concerns all of you--or most of you anyway."

"I should think you'd made enough use of us for the present," said
Betty. "Why don't you try to make a few sophomores famous?"

"Oh it doesn't concern you that way. You are to---- Oh wait till I get
it started," said Mary vaguely; and absolutely refused to be more
ex