e between
thinking a thing and saying it outright."

"The best thing to do is not to think it," said Erma. She laughed long
and loud and merrily. "That is quite an idea. After this, I shall not
think things. Perhaps my brain will never wear out. Doesn't the
physiology say that every thought wears away some of the gray cellular
tissue? Thank goodness, no one can blame me for destroying mine. I am
sure I never thought any of mine away." As she spoke a new thought came
to her. "No doubt, Helen found her pin weeks ago and you are having your
tempest in a tea-pot all for nothing."

Berenice had not thought of that possibility. This was an argument, she
was not equal to and was the means of causing her to say no more on the
subject.

She knew from experience that she could not talk with some of the girls.
They had a sense of loyalty and honor which restrained them from
discussing anyone who came under the name of friend.

Berenice was unfortunate in her disposition. She was not by nature
honest or sincere, and she could not conceive of another's being so.
When Erma and Mellie had refused to listen to her suspicions, she
attributed not to their high sense of honor, but rather that they were
deceiving her and would discuss the question between themselves.

Every girl in the hall understood Berenice. They were careful of their
words while in her presence and they never repeated a tale that she
carried to them. Many a time had they taken her to task, but she never
profited by the lessons. When the girls spoke to her plainly, she put
the fault on them instead of upon herself. Gradually the girls let her
go her own way, gave no credence to her words and kept a bridle on
their tongues, when Berenice was within hearing.

Yet, a word dropped here and there, will spring up and bear seed even
though every one about knows it to be but a poisonous weed. Berenice
dropped these seeds in plenty. A word fell here and there, although the
hearers repudiated it, it yet made an impression, before any one was
conscious that it was so. No one could trace the source from which it
sprung, but the impression was strong throughout the hall that Hester
Alden had taken Helen's valuable pin and had hidden it away for months,
then at the first opportunity when Helen was at Exeter, Hester had worn
it home.

Hester, wholly unconscious that her action might be misjudged or that it
should be judged at all, had left the pin at the cottage with Aunt
Deb