n't exactly a vision of loveliness yet. She won't be mistaken for the
college beauty, but she's vastly improved. I only wish anybody cared to
take as much trouble for me."

"Oh, Eleanor!" said Betty reproachfully. "As if any one could improve
you!"

Eleanor's evening dress was a pale yellow satin that brought out the
brown lights in her hair and eyes and the gleaming whiteness of her
shoulders. There were violets in her hair, which was piled high on her
head, and more violets at her waist; and as she stood full in the light,
smiling at Betty's earnestness, Betty was sure she had never seen any
one half so lovely.

"But I wish you wouldn't be so sarcastic over Helen," she went on
stoutly. "She can't help being such a freak."

Eleanor yawned. "I was born sarcastic," she said. "I wish Lil Day would
hurry. Did you happen to notice that I cut three classes straight this
morning?"

"No," said Betty aghast. "Oh, Eleanor, how dare you when--" She stopped
suddenly, remembering that Eleanor had asked her not to speak of the
entrance conditions.

"When I have so much to make up already, you mean," Eleanor went on
complacently. "Oh, I shall manage somehow. Here they come."

A few moments later the freshman and sophomore classes, with a
sprinkling of juniors to make the numbers even, were gathered _en
masse_ in the big gymnasium. All the afternoon loyal sophomores had
toiled thither from the various campus houses, lugging palms, screens,
portieres and pillows. Inside another contingent had arranged these
contributions, festooned the running-track with red and green bunting,
risked their lives to fasten Japanese lanterns to the cross-beams, and
disguised the apparatus against the walls with great branches of spruce
and cedar, which still other merry, wind-blown damsels, driving a
long-suffering horse, had deposited at intervals near the back door. By
five o'clock it was finished and everybody, having assured everybody
else that the gym never looked so well before, had gone home to dress
for the evening. Now the lights softened what Mary Brooks called the
"hidjous" greens of the freshman bunting, a band played sweet music
behind the palms, and pretty girls in pretty gowns sat in couples on the
divans that lined the walls, or waited in line to speak to the receiving
party. This consisted of Jean Eastman and the sophomore president, who
stood in front of the fireplace, where a line of ropes intended to be
used in gym practice h