act, together with the novel method of her
election made her interesting to her essentially democratic audience. So
when the judges--five popular members of the faculty--announced their
decision in favor of the negative, otherwise the junior-freshman side of
the debate, 19--'s enthusiasm knew no bounds, and led by the delighted
B's they carried their speaker twice round the gym on their
shoulders--which is an honor likely to be remembered by its recipient
for more reasons than one.

As the clans were scattering, it suddenly occurred to Betty that, if
Emily did not guess anything, it would please her to be congratulated on
the excellence of her debate; and if, as was more likely, she had
guessed, there was little to be gained by postponing the dreaded
interview. She chose a moment when Emily was standing by herself in one
corner of the gymnasium. Emily did not wait for her to begin her speech
of congratulation.

"Oh, Miss Wales," she cried, "I've been to see you six times, and you
are never there. It was lovely of you--lovely--but ought we to take it?"

"Yes, indeed. It belongs to you; honestly it does. Don't ask me how, for
it's too long a story. Just take my word for it."

"Well, but----" began Emily doubtfully.

At that moment some one called, "Hurrah for 19--!" Betty caught up the
cry and seizing Emily's hand rushed her down the hall, toward a group of
freshmen.

"Make a line and march," cried somebody else, and presently a long line
of 19-- girls was winding in noisy lock-step down the hall, threading in
and out between groups of upper-class girls and cheering and gaining
recruits as it went.

"Hurrah for 19--!" cried Betty hoarsely.

"Take it for 19--," she whispered to Emily, as the line stopped with a
jerk that knocked their heads together.

"If you are sure---- Thank you for 19--," Emily whispered back.

"Here's to 19--, drink her down!
Here's to 19--, drink her down!"

As the chorus rose and swelled Betty felt, as she never had before, what
it meant to be a college girl at Harding.

As Betty was leaving the gymnasium she met Eleanor face to face in the
hallway.

"Wasn't it fun?" said Betty, shyly. Perhaps, now that the debate was
over, Eleanor would be ready to make friends again.

"Patronizing the genius, do you mean?" asked Eleanor slowly. "I hope she
didn't buy that hideous salmon-pink waist with your money."

"Oh, Eleanor, how did you ever find out?" cried Betty, deeply
distresse