indeed? There wasn't any sense. Emily felt wild. Miss Carmichael
here evidently decided it was time to temper glee with something else.
Emily was prepared for that, having discovered that wit is uncertain in
its humours.

"An organ not exercised loses power to perform its function. Think!"
said Miss Carmichael. "Haven't you taken down the lecture?"

Emily had taken down the lecture, but she had not taken in the lecture.
She looked unhappy. "I don't think I understand it," she confessed.

"Then why didn't you have it explained?"

"I did try." Which was true, for Emily had gone with questions
concerning perpetuation of type to her Aunt Cordelia.

"What did you want to know?" demanded Miss Carmichael.

"About--about the questions at the end for us to answer--about that one,
'What makes types repeat themselves?'"

"And what does?" said Miss Carmichael. "That is exactly what I'm trying
to find out."

Emily looked embarrassed. Aunt Cordelia's answer was the same one that
she gave to all the puzzling _whys_, but Emily did not want to give it
here.

"Come, come, come," said Miss Carmichael. She was standing by her table,
and she rapped it sharply, "And what does?"

"God," said Emily desperately.

She felt the general embarrassment as she sat down. She felt Hattie
give a quick look at her, then saw her glance around. Was it for her?
Hattie's cheek was red. Rosalie, with her cheek crimson, was looking in
her lap.

In the High School some have passed out of Eden, while others are only
approaching the fruit of the tree.

Hattie had glanced at her protectingly, and though Emily did not
understand just why, she was glad, for of late she had been feeling
apart from Hattie and estranged from Rosalie, and altogether alone and
aggrieved.

Hattie now wrote herself Harriet, and had seemed to change in the
process, though Emily, who had once been Emily Louise herself, felt she
had not changed to her friends. But Hattie was one to look facts in the
face. "If you're not pretty," she had a while back confided to Emily,
"you've got to be smart." And forthwith taking to learning, Hattie was
fast becoming a shining light.

Rosalie had taken to things of a different nature, which she called
Romantic Situations. To have the wind whisk off your hat and take it
skurrying up the street just as you meet a boy is a Romantic Situation.

Emmy Lou had no sympathy with them, whatever; it even embarrassed her to
hear about them and caus