ice putting, which was her weak point and come home with Christy
and Nita Reese, another golf fiend, who had spent the whole afternoon on
the course.

But on the club house piazza she found Dorothy King. Dorothy played golf
exceedingly well, as she did everything else; but as she explained to
Betty, "By junior year all this athletic business gets pretty much
crowded out." She still kept her membership in the club, however, and
played occasionally, "just to keep her hand in for the summer." She had
done six holes this afternoon, all alone, and now she was resting a few
moments before going home. She greeted Betty warmly. "I looked for you
out on the course," she said, "but your little pals thought you weren't
coming up to-day. How's your game?"

"Better, thank you," said Betty, "except my putting, and I'm going to
practice on that now. Did you know that Christy had asked me to play
with her in the inter-class foursomes?"

"That's good," said Dorothy cordially. "Do you see much of Eleanor
Watson these days?" she added irrelevantly.

"Why--no-t much," stammered Betty, blushing in spite of herself. "I see
her at meals of course."

"I thought you told me once that you were very fond of her."

"Yes, I did--I am," said Betty quickly, wondering what in the world
Dorothy was driving at.

"She was down at the house last night," Dorothy went on, "blustering
around about having come back late, saying that she'd shown what a bluff
the whole excuse business is, and that now, after she has proved that
it's perfectly easy to cut over at the end of a vacation, perhaps some
of us timid little creatures will dare to follow her lead. But perhaps
you've heard her talking about it."

"I heard her say a little about it," admitted Betty, suddenly
remembering Mary Brooks's remark. Had the "trouble" that Mary had
foreseen anything to do with Dorothy's questions?

"She's said a great deal about it in the last two weeks," went on
Dorothy. "Last night after she left, her senior friend, Annette Cramer,
and I had a long talk about it. We both agreed that somebody ought to
speak to her, but I hardly know her, and Annette says that she's tried
to talk to her about other things and finds she hasn't a particle of
influence with her." Dorothy paused as if expecting some sort of comment
or reply, but Betty was silent. "We both thought," said Dorothy at last,
"that perhaps if you'd tell her she was acting very silly and doing
herself no end of ha