lay
claim to knowledge which we do not possess? Is it honest to injure a
library book and not pay for the damage? Is it honest to neglect to
return borrowed property? Some of us rob the maids of strength by
obliging them to work overtime in waiting on us at the table. Our lack of
punctuality steals valuable time from tutors and teachers and each other.
We cheat the faculty by slighting our opportunities and thus making their
life work of inferior quality to that which they have a right to expect.
By heedless exaggeration we may murder a reputation--mutilate an
existence. We wrong each other by being less than our best. We are
unscrupulous about breaking promises. Down town this afternoon at the
corner of Main and Market Streets I saw a freshman waiting in the cold.
She was walking to and fro to get warm. Her teeth chattered,--she was
crying from nervous suspense. When I spoke to her and advised her to
return to college before dark, she shook her head, and said no, somebody
had promised to meet her, and she had to stay. Now that girl, whoever it
was, who broke that engagement, is responsible----"

I leaned forward and clutched Miss Benton's shoulder.

"She hasn't come back yet," I cried; "do you think she is there still? I
forgot--I thought it didn't matter. I didn't mean to--"

Miss Benton turned around her head to look up at me, and the others near
us looked too, and down at the foot of the stairs the crowd packed in
front of the bulletin board sort of quieted for a minute and seemed to be
listening and watching us. And up on the wall over their heads the big
clock went tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, and its long pendulum swung
to and fro.

Then swish, swish, swish, the lady principal came hurrying through the
reception hall beyond, with her silk skirts rustling, and her face quite
pale. And the girls turned their heads toward her. She raised her hand
and said in her soft voice: "Are Miss Martha Reed's roommates here?"

And then some more girls with their hats and coats on came running up the
steps from the vestibule. The crowd was buzzing like everything when Lila
and I pushed our way through to tell Mrs. Howard we were there. We caught
scraps of sentences flying hither and thither.

"Run over?"

"Lying in the road----"

"Who found her?"

"Yes, right there in the loneliest part."

"Such a timid little thing----"

"Frightened and fell maybe----"

"Queer she didn't take the car."

"Is she dead?"

L