Betty Wales Senior | Page 9

reappear now and then
during her course always in similar rôles. It happened that she had
never heard of Eleanor Watson's stolen story until a week before the

class-meeting, when some one had told her the unvarnished facts, with
no palliation and no reference to Eleanor's subsequent change of heart
or renunciation of one honor after another. Virtuous indignation and
pained surprise struggled for expression upon her pasty, immobile face.
"Madam president," she began, and waited formally for recognition.
"Oh, I say, it's awfully late," said somebody. "I've got five recitations
to-morrow."
This speech and the laugh that followed it put new vigor into the
Champion's purpose. "I hope I am not trespassing on any one's time
unduly," she said, "by stating that--I dislike to say it here, but it has
been forced upon me. I don't think Miss Watson is the girl to hold
19--'s offices. Miss Wales said that we stood for fair play." The
Champion took her seat ponderously.
The room was very still. Marie sat, nonplused, staring at the
Champion's defiant figure. Madeline's hands were clenched angrily.
"I'd like to knock her down, the coward," she muttered to Betty, who
was looking straight ahead and did not seem to hear.
Hardly a minute had gone by, but more slowly than a minute ever went
before, when Eleanor was on her feet. She had grown suddenly white,
and her eyes had a hunted, strained look. "I quite agree with Miss
Harrison," she said in clear, ringing tones, her head held high. "I am not
worthy of this honor. I withdraw my name, and I ask Miss Ayres, as a
personal favor, to substitute some one's else."
Eleanor sat down, and Marie wet her lips nervously and looked at
Madeline. "Please, Miss Ayres," she begged.
"As a personal favor," returned Madeline slowly, "because Eleanor
Watson asks me, I substitute"--she paused--"Christy Mason's name. I
am sure that Miss Mason will allow it to be used, as a personal favor to
every one concerned."
"Indeed I----" began Christy impetuously. Then she met Eleanor's

beseeching eyes. "Very well," she said, "but every one here except
Miss Harrison knows that Miss Watson would be far better."
It took only a minute to elect Christy and adjourn the ill-fated meeting.
"I thought she'd feel like hurrying home," said Katherine sardonically,
as the Champion, very red and militant, rushed past her toward the
door.
Betty looked wistfully after the retreating figure. "I would rather have
left college than had her say that. It doesn't seem fair--after everything."
"Serves me right, anyhow," broke in Madeline despondently. "I was
dreaming about castles in Italy instead of tackling the business in hand.
If I had thought more I should have known that some freak would seize
the opportunity to rake up old scores. Don't feel so bad, Betty. It was
my fault, and I'll make it up to her somehow. Come and help me tell
Christy that she's a trump, and that I truly wanted her, next to Eleanor."
When they had pushed their way through to Christy's side, Eleanor, still
white but smiling bravely, was shaking hands. "It was awfully good of
you not to mind the little awkwardness," she was saying. "The girls
always want you--you know that." She turned to find Betty standing
beside her, looking as if her heart was broken.
"Why, Betty Wales," she laughed, "cheer up. You've made the speech
of the day, and three of your best friends are waiting to be
congratulated. Tell Christy how pleased you are that she's toastmistress
and then come down town with me."
Once out of the crowded room Eleanor grew silent, and Betty, too hurt
and angry to know what to offer in the way of comfort, left her to her
own thoughts. They had crossed the campus and were half way down
the hill when Eleanor spoke.
"Betty," she said, "please don't care so. If you are going to feel this way,
I don't think I can bear it."

Betty stared at her in astonishment. "Why Eleanor, it's you that I care
about. I can't bear to have you treated so."
Eleanor smiled sadly. "And can't you see--no, of course you can't, for
you never did a mean or dishonorable thing in your life. If you had, you
would know that the worst part of the disgrace, is that you have to
share it with your friends. I don't mind for myself, because what Miss
Harrison said is true."
"No, it's not," cried Betty hotly. "Not another girl in the whole class
feels so."
"That," Eleanor went on, "is only because they are kind enough to be
willing to forget. But to drag you in, and dear old Madeline, and all
'The Merry Hearts'! You'll be sorry you ever took me in."
"Nonsense!" cried Betty