Eleanor's tale of the absent-minded freshman was the hit of the night,and the tinkle of her guitar added the crowning touch to the festivity ofthe occasion. As they rounded the last corner on the homeward stretch,she turned to Morgan Wales, her eyes shining softly and her hair blowninto distracting waves under her fluffy black tam.

"It is fun, Betty," she exclaimed. "Flat-car and all,--though why it shouldbe, I'm sure I don't see, and last fortnight it wasn't--for me."

Then her face grew suddenly sombre, and she settled back in her corner,dropping into a moody silence that lasted until the automobile had dumped itsmerry load, and the "sophomore push" was making its way in noisy twos andthrees up the hill to the campus.

"Come over for a minute, can't you, Eleanor?" asked Betty, when theyreached the Belden House gate.

"Why, yes--no, I can't, either. I'm sorry," exclaimed Eleanor, and wasstarting across the grass toward home, when Jean Eastman overtook her.

"Come over to the Westcott and warm up with coffee," exclaimed Jean.

Eleanor repeated her refusal.

"Why not?" demanded Jean with her usual directness.