ty found Mary and Katherine in possession of her room and engaged in
an animated discussion about the rules of hockey.

"I tell you that when the thing-um-bob is in play," began Katherine.

"Not a bit of it," cut in Mary.

"Come along, girls," interrupted Betty, fishing her skates from under
her couch, and pulling on her "pussy" mittens. "Never mind those rules.
You can't play hockey to-day. You promised to skate with me."

It was an ideal winter's afternoon, clear, cold and still. The ice on
Paradise was smooth and hard, and the little pond was fairly alive with
skaters, most of them Harding girls. Betty was a novice, with one weak
ankle that had an annoying habit of turning over suddenly and tripping
her up; so she was timid about skating alone. But between Mary and
Katherine she got on famously, and thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon. At
four Mary had a committee meeting, Katherine an engagement to play
basket-ball, and Betty had agreed to meet Rachel. So with great
reluctance they took off their skates and started up the steep path that
led past the boat-house to the back gate of the campus.

"Goodness, but I'm stiff," groaned Mary, stopping to rest a minute half
way up. "I'd have skated until dinner time though, if it hadn't been for
this bothering committee. Never be on committees, children."

"Why don't you apply your own rules?" inquired Katherine saucily.

"Oh, because I'm a vain peacock like the rest of the world. The class
president comes to me and says, 'Now Mary, nobody but you knows every
girl in the class. You can find out the sentiments of all sorts and
conditions on this matter. And then you have such fine executive
ability. I know you hate committees, but----' Of course I feel pleased
by her base flattery, and I don't come to my senses until it's too late
to escape. Is to-day the sixteenth?"

"No, it's Saturday, the twentieth," said Katherine. "Two weeks next
Monday to mid-years."

"The twentieth!" repeated Mary in tones of alarm. "Then, my psychology
paper is due a week from Tuesday. I haven't done a thing to it, and I
shall be so busy next week that I can't touch it till Friday or
Saturday. How time does fly!"

"Don't you even know what you're going to write on or anything that
you're going to say?" asked Betty, who always wrote her papers as soon
as they were assigned, to get them off her mind, and who longed to know
the secret of waiting serenely until the eleventh hour.

"Why, I had a pl