girls, although she was
endeavoring to overcome it, here remarked:

"Why, I think you are looking particularly well to-night, Molly. Such a
becoming dress!"

Molly flushed as she glanced hastily down at her two-year-old organdy.
Mary Stewart put a hand over her cold, slim fingers.

"You always wear becoming dresses, Molly, dear. In fact, they are so
becoming that no one ever looks at the dress for looking at you."

Molly smiled and pressed her friend's hand in return. She was wondering
if Judith Blount would learn to curb her tongue when she had to curb her
expenses.

"I want you to meet Miss Petit," she said, introducing the little
freshman to the two older girls.

Mary Stewart shook hands kindly and Judith bowed distantly. Certainly
Judith was in a bad humor that night.

"How do you like Wellington?" asked Mary of Miss Petit by way of making
conversation.

"I think it's jus' lovely," drawled the little Southerner with her
inimitable Louisiana accent. "I never danced on a better flo' befo' in
all my life."

Mary Stewart smiled. The soft, melodious voice was music to her ears.

"You live in the Quadrangle, don't you? I think I saw you there the
other day," continued Mary.

"Oh, no, I reckon you saw some other girl. I live over the post office
in the village."

"She has a charming room," broke in Molly, when she was interrupted by a
stifled laugh. Looking up quickly, they were confronted with Judith and
one of her boon companions, their faces crimson with suppressed
laughter.

Miss Petit regarded the two juniors with a kind of gentle amazement.
Then, without the slightest embarrassment, she said to Mary and Molly:

"What lovely manners some of the Wellington girls have!"

At this uncomfortable juncture Edith Williams sailed up.

"This is my dance isn't it, Mademoiselle _Petite_? And while we dance, I
want you to talk all the time so that my ears can drink in your liquid
tones. Have you heard her speak, Miss Stewart? Isn't it beautiful? It's
like the call of the wood-pigeon, so soft and persuasive and delicious."

"Now, you're flattering me," said little Miss Petit, "but I'm glad it
doesn't make you laugh, anyhow," and she floated off in the arms of the
tall Edith as gracefully as a fluffy little cloud carried along by the
breezes.

"Isn't she sweet?" said Molly presently. "And you can't imagine what she
is doing to make both ends meet here. She won a scholarship which pays
her tuition, but she ha