Betty Wales Senior | Page 8

to her, and
speech-making a fearful and wonderful art, which she never essayed
except in an emergency. But she recognized Marie's distress, and rose
hesitatingly, to pour oil on the troubled waters if possible.

"I certainly think there ought to be a committee," she began slowly.
"And I'm sure I know less than any one who has spoken about the
needs of the different courses. I'm--well, I'm not a star in anything, you
see. I agree with Jean that we ought not to make this a personal matter,
and yet I am sure that the head of whatever department we give the
money to will be pleased, and I don't see why we shouldn't consider
that and choose somebody who has done a lot for 19--. But there are so
many who have done a lot for us." Betty frowned a perplexed little
frown. "I wish too," she went on very earnestly, "that we could do
something that is like us. You know what I mean. We stand for fair
play and a good time for everybody--that was why we had the dresses
simple, you know." The frown vanished suddenly and Betty's
fascinating little smile came into view instead. "I wonder--of course
Prexy is always saying the college is poor, and the faculty are always
talking about not having books enough, but I haven't noticed but that
they find enough to keep us busy looking up references." ("Hear, hear!"
chanted the B's.) "It seems to me that Harding College is good enough
as it is," went on Betty, looking reproachfully at the disturbers. "The
thing is to let as many girls as possible come here and enjoy it. Do you
suppose the man who gave the money would be willing that we should
use our share of it for scholarships? Four one hundred dollar
scholarships would help four girls along splendidly. Of course that isn't
a department exactly,--and perhaps it's a silly suggestion." Betty
slipped into her seat beside Madeline, blushing furiously, and looking
blankly amazed when her speech brought forth a round of vigorous
applause, and, as soon as parliamentary order would permit, a motion
that 19-- should, with the consent of the unknown benefactor of the
college, establish four annual scholarships.
"I name Miss Wales as chairman of the committee to interview the
president," said Marie, beaming delightedly on her once more
harmonious constituents. "The other two members of the committee I
will appoint later. The next and last business of this meeting is to elect
a toastmistress for our class-supper. She is always chosen early, you
know, so that she can be thinking of toasts and getting material for
them out of all the events of the year. Nominations are now in order."

"I nominate Eleanor Watson," said Madeline promptly, reluctantly
closing her magazine and getting to her feet. "I needn't tell any of you
how clever she is nor how well she speaks. Next to one or two persons
whose duties at commencement time are obvious and likely to be
arduous"--Madeline grinned at Emily Davis, who was sure to be
class-orator, and Babe leaned forward to pat Marion Lustig, who was
equally sure to be class-poet, on the shoulder--"next to these one or two
geniuses, Eleanor is our wittiest member. Of course our class-supper
will be the finest ever,--it can't help being--but with Eleanor Watson at
the head of the table, it will eclipse itself. To quote the great Dr.
Hinsdale, do you get my point?"
Kate Denise seconded the nomination with a heartiness that made
Eleanor flush with pleasure. Betty watched her happily, half afraid she
would refuse the nomination, as she had refused the Dramatic Club's
election; but she only sat quite still, her great eyes shining like stars.
She was thinking, though Betty could not know that, of little Helen
Adams and her "one big day" when she was elected to the "Argus"
board.
"I know just how she felt," Eleanor considered swiftly. "It's after you've
been left out and snubbed and not wanted that things like this really
count. Oh, I'm so glad they want me now."
"Are there any other nominations?" asked Marie. There was a little
silence, broken by a voice saying: "Let's make it unanimous. Ballots
take so long, and everybody wants her."
Then a girl got up from the back row,--a girl to whom Katherine
Kittredge had once given the title of "Harding's champion
blunderbuss." She could no more help doing the wrong thing than she
could help breathing. She had begun her freshman year by opening the
door into Dr. Hinsdale's recitation-room, while a popular senior course
was in session. "I beg your pardon, but are you Miss Stuart?" she had
asked, looking full at the amazed professor, and upon receiving a
gasping denial she had withdrawn, famous, to