id you get your
cold?"

"Why K. and I got caught in a miserable little snow flurry," explained
Roberta, pulling the pink shawl closer, "and--I got my feet wet. My
throat's horribly sore. It won't be well for a week, and I can't try for
the play."

Roberta struggled out of the encumbering folds of the green afghan and
trailed her other draperies swiftly to the window, whose familiar view
she seemed to find intensely absorbing.

"Oh, yes, you can," said Betty comfortingly. "Why, your throat may be
all right by to-morrow, and anyway it's only the Portia and Shylock
trials that come then. Were you going to try for either of those parts?"

"Yes," gulped Roberta thickly.

Behind Roberta's back Betty was free to pucker her mouth into a funny
little grimace that denoted amusement, surprise and sympathy, all
together. "Then I'll ask Barbara Gordon to give you a separate trial
later," she said kindly. "Nothing will be really decided to-morrow. We
only make tentative selections to submit to Mr. Masters when he comes up
next week. He's the professional coach, you know."

But Roberta turned back from the window to shake her head. "I wouldn't
have you do that for anything," she said, brushing away the tears. "I'll
try for something else if I get well in time. I'm going to bed now. Will
you please ask Annie to bring up my dinner? And Betty, don't ever say I
meant to try for Shylock. I don't know why I told you, except that you
always understand."

Betty felt that she didn't quite understand this time, but she promised
to tell Annie and come in late herself to conduct another search for
the missing pin. She had just succeeded in dismissing Ted, Jean and
Roberta from her mind and concentrating it on the next day's history
lesson, when Helen Adams appeared.

"Helen," began Betty solemnly, "if you've got any troubles connected
with trying for parts in the play, please don't divulge them. I don't
believe I can stand any more complications."

"Poor thing!" said Helen compassionately. "I know how you feel from the
times I have with the 'Argus.' Well, I shan't bother you about trying
for a part. I should just love to act, but I can't and I know it. I only
wanted to borrow some tea, and to tell you that Anne Carter has come to
return my call. You know you said you'd like to meet her."

So Betty brushed her curls smooth and, stopping to pick up Madeline on
her way, went in to meet Miss Carter, whose shyness and silence melted
rapid