!" she exclaimed. "I started to keep a record of all
my good times when I went to Lloyd's first house-party. When godmother
gave me this volume, number one, I thought it would take a lifetime to
fill it, but so many lovely things happened that summer that it was
full in a little while. Then I went abroad in the fall, and that trip
filled a volume. Now I am beginning the seventh."

Juliet stared at the pile of white books in amazement. "What a lot of
work!" she cried. "Doesn't it take every bit of pleasure out of your
good times, thinking that you'll have to write all about it afterward? I
tried to keep a diary once, but it looked more like the report of a
weather bureau than anything else, and my small brother got hold of it
and mortified me nearly to death one night when we had company, by
quoting something from it. It sounded dreadfully sentimental, although
it hadn't seemed so when I wrote it. That's the trouble in keeping a
journal, don't you think so? You'll often put down something that seems
important at the time, but that sounds silly afterward."

"No," said Betty, hesitatingly. "I always enjoy going back to read the
first volumes. It's interesting to see how one changes from year to year
in opinions as well as handwriting. See how little and cramped the
letters are in this first volume. It's good exercise, and, as I expect
to write a book some day, every bit of practice helps."

Betty made the announcement as simply as if she had said she intended
to darn a stocking some day, and Juliet looked at her in open-mouthed
wonder. She had never encountered a girl of that species before, and
more than ever she felt that her friendship would be worth cultivating.
When she finally took her departure, there was no time for any further
tour of inspection, but she ran into several rooms on the way back to
her own to say, hastily: "Girls, do all you can to get that Kentucky
quartette into our sorority! I'll tell you about them later. We must
give them a grand rush to-morrow night at the old girls' welcome to the
new. I hope I'll get to take Elizabeth Lewis. My _dears_, she's a
perfect genius! She's written poems and plays that have been published,
and she's at work on a _book_!"

As Juliet closed the door behind her, Betty took up the new volume in
the series of little white records, and began turning the blank pages.
Like the new school year, it lay spread out before her, white and fair,
hers to write therein as she chos