ccident. "Well,
have you found out?" she asked. "As a student of psychology I'm vastly
interested in this situation."

"Found out what?" asked Betty unsmilingly.

"Why Miss Mills asked her, and why she is so pleased."

"I suppose Miss Mills asked her because she was sorry for her," answered
Betty slowly, "and Helen is pleased because she doesn't know it. Mary,
she's been awfully lonely."

"Too bad," commented Mary. Unhappiness always made her feel awkward.

"But she says this makes up to her for everything," added Betty.

"Oh, I've noticed that life is a pretty even thing in the end," returned
Mary, relieved that there was no present call on her sympathies, "but I
must confess I don't see how one dinner invitation, even if it is
from----"

Just then Helen tapped on the door.

Down in Miss Mills's room they were discussing much the same point.

"It's a shame for you to waste your Sundays over these children," said
Miss Hale.

Miss Mills stopped her tea-making to dissent. "It isn't wasted if she
cared. She was so still that I couldn't be sure, but judging from the
length of time she stayed----"

"She was smiling all over her face when we met her," interrupted Miss
Meredith. "Who is she, anyway?"

"Oh, just nobody in particular," laughed Miss Mills, "just a forlorn
little freshman named Adams."

"But I don't quite see how----" began Miss Hale.

"Oh, you wouldn't," said Miss Mills easily. "You were president of your
class when you were a freshman. I was nobody in particular, and I know
what it's like."

"But why not leave it to her friends to hearten her up?"

"Apparently she hasn't any, or if she has, they're as out of things as
she is."

"Well, to the other girls then."

"When girls are happy they are cruel," said Miss Mills briefly, "or
perhaps they're only careless."

Betty, after a week's consideration, put the matter even more
specifically. "I tried to make her over because I wanted a different
kind of roommate," she said, "and we all let her see that we were sorry
for her. Miss Mills made her feel as if----"

"She had her dance card full and was splitting her waltzes," supplied
Mary, who was just back from an afternoon at Winsted.

"Exactly like that," agreed Betty, laughing. "I wish I'd done it," she
added wistfully.

"You kept her going till her chance came," said Mary. "She owes a lot to
you, and she knows it."

"Don't," protested Betty, flushing. "I tell you, I was only thinking of