earlier than usual to-morrow," said Hester lightly. "I
promised on my word of honor to have a copy ready for Miss Bucher. If I
may not write poetry, at least I can write personals. Let us go to bed
now before the retiring bell rings."

A hurried knock came to the door. Before either girl could respond,
Renee entered. She wore a gay kimona of embroidered silk. Her dark wavy
hair hung over her shoulders. She looked like a goddess as she paused an
instant on the threshold. Then advancing, she cried, "Oh, girls, do you
happen to have any cold cream? I'm out and I do need some particularly
badly."

"Yes, I have some." Helen took a small box from the dresser and gave it
to Renee.

"Thank you ever so much." Without further words, Renee went her way.

Hester waited until the sound of her footsteps had died away.

"I was thinking," she began slowly. Her brow was puckered as though she
were greatly perplexed. "I've been thinking that I never heard Renee say
anything but 'Will you lend me?' Does she not know anything else?"

"I presume she does, but she has allowed the habit to grow. Each year,
she grows worse. I fancy by the time she graduates, she will borrow our
diplomas and essays. It may be that by that time, Renee will have
particular need of them."

Hester had prepared for bed and was sitting on the edge of her own
little iron cot waiting until Helen was ready to say good-night.

"I am going to remain up some time, little roommate. But you need not
wait for me." She crossed the room and kissed Hester affectionately.
Somehow Helen had fallen into the older sister attitude toward her
roommate. Since the first week of school, Hester had never gone to sleep
without Helen's kiss warm on her lips. This had never been done after
the fashion of a sentimental school girl who caresses everything which
comes in her way. Helen was not demonstrative, and what her lips
touched, touched strongly her affections.

[Illustration: "OH, GIRLS, DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE ANY COLD CREAM?"--_Page
121._]

"I must make a thorough search for my pin," she said, going back to her
dressing-table, to begin the search. "I must not lose it. It is a
peculiar design. It was once an earring belonging to Grandma Hobart. It
has her hair woven about it. When Aunt Harriet and mama were
babies--they were babies at the same time, you know--grandma had the
earrings made into pins. Mama wore this for years, and then gave it to
me. I should feel bad if I shou