t ask Hester to accompany her and the latter was hurt by the
omission. They had been together almost six months and in that time such
a thing had never before occurred.

Hester slowly made ready for bed. The fumes of chocolate and fudge in
the making were wafted to her from the rooms at the lower end of the
hall, and the chatter and laugh came with them. No one called her to
come. She felt forsaken and lonely. Such occasions previous to this, she
had not waited until a special invitation had been given her, but joined
and helped with the merry-making. She felt that something stood between
her and Helen. Just what that something was, she did not know, nor could
she surmise. There was nothing tangible for her thoughts to work upon to
reach a conclusion. She instinctively felt that something was wrong. In
this particular case, instinct was stronger than reason. She crept into
bed, although the retiring bell had not rung. The two little iron cots
stood side by side with only a narrow space between them. Helen had
always been the deliberate one of the two. Hester was generally in bed
before Helen had finished her reading. It had been the latter's habit to
come to Hester's bed and softly kissing her on the forehead to whisper,
"Good-night, little roommate."

It was for this good-night that Hester was waiting. She would insist
then upon knowing what troubled Helen or what had gone wrong to cause
this feeling of alienation. She would have cried had not her pride
sustained her. The tears were very near the surface but she forced them
back. She would cry for no one, no matter how that one treated her.

A few moments before the retiring bell, Helen came into the bedroom.
Knowing that she was late and that the lights would soon be turned off,
she prepared hastily for bed. She did not once glance toward Hester, but
that might have been because she was hurried. While Hester lay and
watched her, the lights went out. She heard Helen laugh softly and say,
"Just in time. I just gave the last turn to my hair."

Then she moved toward the cot, but she moved toward the outside and not
near that of her roommate. Hester was overcome with homesickness. Her
pride took to itself, wings. Raising herself in bed, she turned toward
Helen.

"Have you forgotten something, Helen? Are you not going to bid me
good-night?"

"Surely. Good-night, Hester."

"But not that way, Helen. I mean the way you always have done."

There was silence for an inst