ose her, and
risk having her insulted again."

"I guess we shan't any of us be tempted to do anything dishonest," said
Helen primly. "Doesn't it seem to you as if the girls were getting more
particular lately about saying whether they got their ideas from books
and giving their authorities at the end of their papers?"

"Yes," said Betty, "it does, and I think it's a splendid thing. I went
to a literary club meeting with Nan last Christmas and one of the papers
was copied straight out of a book I'd just been reading, almost word for
word. I told Nan and she laughed and said it was a very common way of
doing. I think Harding girls will do a good deal if they help put a stop
to that kind of thing. But that won't be much comfort to Eleanor."

When Helen had gone, Betty curled up on her couch to consider the day.
"Mixed," she told the little green lizard, "part very nice and part
perfectly horrid, like most days in this world, I suppose, even in your
best beloved senior year. I wonder if Prexy will like the scholarship
idea. I straightened out one snarl, and then I helped make a worse one.
And I shall be in another if I don't set to work this very minute,"
ended Betty, reaching for her Stout's Psychology.

CHAPTER III

THE BELDEN HOUSE "INITIATION PARTY"

Lucile Merrifield, Betty's stately sophomore cousin, and Polly Eastman,
Lucile's roommate and dearest friend, sat on Madeline Ayres's bed and
munched Madeline's sweet chocolate complacently.

"Wish I had cousins in Paris that would send me 'eats' as good as this,"
sighed Polly.

"Isn't it just too delicious!" agreed Lucile. "I say, Madeline, I'm on
the sophomore reception committee and there aren't half enough
sophomores to go round among the freshmen. Won't you take somebody?"

"I? Hardly." Madeline shrugged her shoulders disdainfully. "Don't you
know, child, that I detest girl-dances--any dances for that matter. Ask
me to do something amusing."

"You ought to want to do something useful," said Polly reproachfully.
"Think of all those poor little friendless freshmen!"

"What kind of a class is it this year?" inquired Madeline, lazily,
breaking up more chocolate. "Any fun?"

"The chief thing I've noticed about them," said Lucile, "is that they're
so horribly numerous."

"Fresh?" asked Madeline.

"Yes, indeed," declared Polly emphatically, "dreadfully fresh. But
somehow,--I'm on the grind committee, you know,--and they don't do
anything funny. They