the famous last things over," said Madeline with a
regretful little sigh. "I'm glad we had it before the alums, and the
families begin to arrive and muddle everything up."

"Did I tell you that Dorothy King is coming after all?" asked Betty,
who, in a short white sailor suit, with her curls flying and her hoop
clutched affectionately in one hand, looked at least eight years too
young to be a senior, and supremely happy.

"Has she told you, Helen?" repeated Madeline dramatically. "She tells me
over again every time I see her. When is Mary Brooks scheduled to
arrive?"

"Thursday," answered Betty, "so that she can see the play all three
times."

"Not to mention seeing Dr. Hinsdale between the acts," suggested
Madeline. "What do you two say to a picnic to-morrow?"

Helen said, "How perfectly lovely!" and Betty decided that if Helen and
Madeline would come to the gym in the morning and help with the last
batch of costumes for the mob, she could get off by three o'clock in the
afternoon.

"That reminds me," she added, "that I promised Nerissa to ask Eleanor if
she has any shoes to match her blue dress. The ones we ordered aren't
right at all by gas-light."

"There's Eleanor just going over to the Hilton," said Helen.

"Find out if she can go to the picnic," called Madeline, as Betty
hurried off, shouting and waving her hoop. "We'll be asking the others."

"El-ea-nor!" cried Betty shrilly, making frantic gestures with her hoop.
But though Eleanor turned and looked back at the gay pageant under the
trees, she couldn't single out any one figure among so many, and after
an instant's hesitation she went on up the Hilton House steps.

So Betty stepped across the campus alone, and being quite out of breath
by the time she got indoors went slowly up-stairs and down the long hall
to Eleanor's room. The house was very still--evidently its inmates were
all out watching the hoop-rolling. Betty found herself walking softly,
in sympathy with the almost oppressive silence. Eleanor's door was ajar,
so that Betty's knock pushed it further open.

"May I come in?" she asked, hearing Eleanor, as she supposed, moving
about inside. Without waiting for an answer she walked straight in and
came face to face with--not Eleanor, but Miss Harrison, champion
Blunderbuss of 19--.

"Why, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice sharp with
amazement. "I beg your pardon," she added laughingly, "but I thought of
course it was Eleanor Wat