of his sister's
careless frivolity, he would allow her to accept this invitation, for
the obvious relief it would bring to himself and the second Mrs. Watson.
He was fond of her, that she did not for a moment question, and he
honestly wished her best good; but he did not want her in his house in
her present mood.

"For which I don't in the least blame him," thought Eleanor.

She had started to answer his letter immediately, as he had wished, and
then had hesitated and delayed, so that the decision involved in her
reply was still before her. And yet why should she hesitate? She did not
like Harding college; she had kept the letter of her agreement to stay
there for one year; surely she was free now to do as she
pleased--indeed, her father had said as much. But what did she
please--that was a point that, unaccountably, she could not settle.
Lately something had changed her attitude toward the life at Harding.
Perhaps it was the afternoon with Miss Ferris, with the perception it
had brought of aims and ideals as foreign to the ambitious schemes with
which she had begun the year as to the angry indifference in which she
was finishing it. Perhaps, as poor Helen had suggested, it was the
melting loveliness of spring term. At any rate, as she heard the girls
making their plans for the next year, squabbling amiably over the merits
of the various campus houses, choosing roommates, bargaining for
furniture, even securing partners for the commencement festivities still
three years off, an unexplainable longing to stay on and finish the four
years' drama with the rest had seized upon Eleanor. But each time it
came she had stifled it, reminding herself sternly that for her the four
years held no pleasant possibilities; she had thrown away her
chance--had neglected her work, alienated her friends, disappointed
every one, and most of all herself. There was nothing left for her now
but to go away beaten--not outwardly, for she still flattered herself
that she had proved both to students and faculty her ability to make a
very brilliant record at Harding had she been so inclined, and even her
superiority to the drudgery of the routine work and the childish
recreations. But in her heart of hearts Eleanor knew that this very
disinclination to make the most of her opportunities, this fancied
superiority to requirements that jarred on her undisciplined, haphazard
training, was failure far more absolute and inexcusable than if dulness
or a