but oh, I did so want you to
have the advantages of a good education."

"But so much else goes with the education," Molly protested to herself.
"So many pleasures and enjoyments. Somehow, it doesn't seem fair for me
to be going to glee club concerts when all my family are working so
hard."

"Have you any stamps, Judy?" she asked suddenly, as she hooked that
young woman into her dress.

"As many as you want up to a dozen," answered Judy. "They are in the
pill box on my desk."

Molly made her way through Judy's tumbled apartment and helped herself
to the stamps.

"I'll return them to-morrow," she said absently, drawing a letter from
her portfolio, slipping one stamp into the envelope, and sticking the
other on the back.

"What in the world are you writing to a real estate firm for, Molly?"
demanded Judy, looking over Molly's shoulder.

"Oh, just answering an ad."

"Are you so rich that you are going to buy a farm?"

"I wish I were."

Judy's curiosity never gave her any peace, and she now desired earnestly
to know why Molly was corresponding with this strange firm.

"If it turns out well, I'll tell you," said Molly; "but if it doesn't,
you'll never, never know."

"You mean thing, and I thought you loved me," ejaculated Judy.

"I do. That's why I won't tell you. If I did, I would have to inflict
something worse on you, and you wouldn't be so thankful for that part."

"I shall burst if I don't know," cried Judy in despair.

"Burst into a million little pieces then, like the Snow Queen's looking
glass and get into people's eyes and make them see queer Judy pictures
and think queerer Judy thoughts."

"Meany, meany," called Judy after her friend, who had seized her gray
eider-down cape and was fleeing down the hall.

"I love all this," thought Molly, as she hastened up the campus to the
Quadrangle. "I adore the gay talk and the jokes--oh, heavens, but it
will be hard to leave it! I understand now how Mary Stewart felt when
she almost decided not to come back this year and then gave up and came
after all."

Molly felt she would enjoy the sensation of being waited on at table
that night instead of waiting herself, as she had done about this time
last year at Judith Blount's dinner. She wondered if there would be a
poor little trembly freshman to pass the food. But Mary was too
kind-hearted for such things and had engaged two women in the village to
cook and serve her dinner.

The other guests had not ar