dy loved her."

Robbie nodded speechlessly. After a moment she said, "The rest of your
verse is 'Love suffereth long and is kind.'"

The deep-set eyes clouded again under the dusky hair.

"I--have--suffered," she said slowly.

Bea pinched her own arm in a quick agony of vicarious embarrassment. How
could a person show her feelings right out like that before anybody? What
was the use of going around talking about such things? It was not very
polite to make other people uncomfortable. Bea smothered a quick little
sob and walked on, staring straight ahead.

It was Robbie who turned to look into the face so near her own. She saw
the clouds lift before the dawning of an exquisite smile like a ray of
sunshine after a stormy day.

"'Love suffereth long and is kind,'" repeated the oddly gentle voice. "I
have suffered, and I will try--to be kind. I think Elizabeth would have
been glad."

"Elizabeth is glad," said Robbie Belle.

CHAPTER XV

VICTORY

At her escape into the corridor Berta paused for a moment in the shadow
of the staircase to brush the excitement from her glowing face. She
winked rapidly once or twice in hopes of smothering the sparkle in her
eyes, but succeeded only in nicking a happy tear drop from her lashes.
Then she smoothed the dimple from her cheek and tried to straighten her
lips into the sober dignity proper for a senior who was on the honor list
and had just come from an interview with the critic of her commencement
essay.

Her efforts were all in vain, however, for at the very minute that the
dimple came dancing out again and the rebellious mouth quivered back into
its joyous curves, somebody with a swift tap-tap-tap of light heels flew
down the stairs in a rustle and a flutter and darted toward Berta.

"They've come! They're here! The Board of Editors is going to meet in the
lecture room immediately to open the boxes. Four big beautiful boxes full
of splendid great books all in green with gilt lettering. Hurry! Hurry
quick yourself! You're head literary editor. It's really your book--the
ideas, editorials, verses, farce, everything! The sale opens at five.
Everybody's crazy to see the new senior Annual. Our Annual! Oh, Berta!"
She seized the taller girl around the waist and whirled her down the hall
till loose sheets of paper from her dangling note-book flitted merrily
hither and yon.

"Bea, take care! You're crumpling my essay."

"Your essay? Oh, that's so! Senior president, An