up by the railing and drawing Helen after her. "Aren't you tired to
death sitting still?"

"Why no, I don't think so," answered Helen vaguely. "It was so splendid
that I forgot."

"So did I mostly, but I'm remembering good and hard now. I ache all
over." She waved her hand gaily to Dorothy King, then caught Mary
Brooks's eye across the hall and waved again. "T. Reed is a dandy," she
said. "And Rachel was great. They were all great."

"How do you suppose they feel now?" asked Helen, a note of awe in her
voice.

"Tired," returned Betty promptly, "and thirsty, probably, and
proud--awfully proud." She turned upon Helen suddenly. "Helen Chase
Adams, do you know I might have been down there with the subs. Katherine
told me this morning that it was nip and tuck between Marie Austin and
me. If I'd tried harder--played an inch better--think of it, Helen, I
might have been down there too!"

"I couldn't do anything like that," said Helen simply, "but next year I
mean to write a song."

Betty looked at her solemnly. "You probably will. You're a good hard
worker, Helen. Isn't it queer," she went on, "we're not a bit alike, but
this game is making us feel the same way. I wonder if the others feel so
too. Perhaps it's one reason why they have this game--to wake us all up
and make us want to do something worth while."

"Betty Wales," called Christy Mason from the floor below. Betty leaned
over the railing. "Don't forget that you're coming to dinner to-night.
We're going to serenade the team. They'll be dining at the Belden with
Miss Andrews."

Kate Denise joined her. She had never mentioned the afternoon in
Eleanor's room, but she took especial pains to be pleasant to Betty.

"Hello, Betty Wales," she called up. "Isn't it fine? Don't you think
we'll win? Anyway Miss Andrews says it's the best game she ever saw."

"Betty Wales," called Dorothy King from her leader's box, "come to
vespers with me to-morrow."

Betty met them all with friendly little nods and enthusiastic answers.
Then she turned back to Helen. "It's funny, but I'm always interrupted
when I'm trying to think," she said. "If there were six of me I think I
might be six successful persons. But as it is, I suppose I shall always
be just 'that little Betty Wales' and have a splendid time."

"That would be enough for most people," said Helen.

"Oh, I hope not," said Betty soberly. "I don't amount to anything." She
slipped down into her place again. The teams we