n the search or even expressed her sympathy for its
loss.

CHAPTER IX

Hester was deep in literary work for the Philomathean paper. She was not
attempting poetry. After Helen's criticism she had not the heart to
bring her efforts before the public, although she did write in secret.
It is a long and hard drop from being a poet to a hack-writer scribbling
down personals. Poets are born, while any one can write personals.

Hester had been cultivating the unpleasant little mannerism of thinking
aloud or rather in tones under her breath, as she wrote she read. Her
efforts resulted in this form.

"'Miss Erma Thomas has been excused from classes on account of
sustaining a sprained ankle.'

"'Sustain.' I wonder if that is the right word. Sustain a sprain. It
sounds all right. I'll let it be that. If I don't know, the other girls
will not know either."

"Hester, do you realize that you are thinking aloud?" asked Helen after
this performance had continued some minutes.

"Am I? I did not know; but it does not matter. What I am saying is not
private and it makes no difference if all the world hears."

"That is not the idea," said Helen. She was sweet, calm, and decided.
"Has it not come to you that I might wish to study and that monotone is
anything but pleasant?"

Hester's face flushed crimson. "I beg pardon. I was selfish, Helen."

Helen crossed the room and bending over the abashed, confused Hester,
said tenderly, "Do not mind my speaking so, little roommate. If it were
Aunt Debby you would not take it so to heart. Then why should it hurt
from me? Boarding-schools and roommates serve one great purpose--they
rub off the jagged edges of one's manners." She bent and kissed the
girl.

"Helen Loraine, you are the dearest girl I know. I am so glad I have you
for a roommate. We have never quarreled and I hope never will."

"No, we never will," said Helen. She went back to her work.

In addition to her literary efforts, Hester had other claims upon her.
The Christmas season was approaching and her gifts were barely in
preparation. She was embroidering a set of linen collars and cuffs for
Helen, and the efforts to keep the work hidden was making life strenuous
for her.

Whenever Helen left the room, Hester took up the work, took a few
stitches and perhaps was compelled to put it away. There were many
people passing up and down the dormitory halls. It was not always
possible to distinguish Helen's step. Then she