ssiveness and finality. It was magnificent. It was
as though one might remark languidly: "She? Oh, she's the Queen of
Sheba"--or, "Oh, she's Mary Pickford."

Missy pondered a second, then asked:

"Prominent? How is a-what makes a person prominent?"

Pete elucidated in the large, patronizing manner of a kindly-disposed
elder.

"Oh, being pretty--if you're a girl--and a good sport, and active in
some line. A leader."

Missy didn't yet exactly see. She decided to make the problem specific.

"What makes Polly prominent?"

"Because she's the prettiest girl on the hill," Pete replied
indulgently. "And some dancer. And crack basket-ball forward--Glee
Club--Dramatic Club. Polly's got it over 'em forty ways running."

So ended the first lesson. The second occurred at the chance mention
of one Charlie White, a Cherryvale youth likewise a student at the
University.

"Oh, he's not very prominent," commented Pete, and his tone damned poor
Charlie for all eternity.

"Why isn't he?" asked Missy interestedly.

"Oh, I don't know--he's just a dub."

"A dub?"

"Yep, a dub." Pete had just made a "date" with Polly, so he beamed on
her benignantly as he explained further: "A gun--a dig-a greasy grind."

"But isn't a smart person ever prominent?"

"Oh, sometimes. It all depends."

"Is Polly Currier a grind?"

"I should hope not!" as if defending the lady from an insulting charge.

Missy looked puzzled; then asked:

"Does she ever pass?"

"Oh, now and then. Sometimes she flunks. Polly should worry!"

Here was strange news. One could be smart, devote oneself to study--be
a "greasy grind"--and yet fail of prominence; and one could fail to
pass--"flunk"--and yet climb to the pinnacle of prominence. Evidently
smartness and studiousness had nothing to do with it, and Missy felt a
pleasurable thrill. Formerly she had envied Beulah Crosswhite, who wore
glasses and was preternaturally wise. But maybe Beulah Crosswhite was
not so much. Manifestly it was more important to be prominent than
smart.

Oh, if she herself could be prominent!

To be sure, she wasn't pretty like Polly Currier, or even like her own
contemporary, Kitty Allen--though she had reason to believe that Raymond
Bonner had said something to one of the other boys that sounded as if
her eyes were a little nice. "Big Eyes" he had called her, as if that
were a joke; but maybe it meant something pleasant. But the High School
did not have a Glee Club or Dramatic