"No," chuckled Jean, "that's Laura Perkins. Their back views areamazingly alike, but wait till you see Laura's face. No, the lady Eleanorwouldn't come to the game. She's in the sulks."

"Seems to be her chronic state nowadays," said Beatrice. "Talking to heris like walking on a hornet's nest. What's the particular cause ofgrievance to-day?"

"0h, the committee didn't accept her basket-ball song," exclaimed Jean, "and Iwas on the committee."

Beatrice lifted her eyebrows. "She actually had the nerve to write--tohand one in?"

"0h, that wasn't nervy," said Jean. "The girls wanted her to--l9--isawfully shy on poets. What I don't admire is her taste in fussing becauseit wasn't used."

Beatrice chuckled significantly. "Did she tell you about her tale?"

"What tale?"

"0h, a very quite new one that she handed in for a theme a fortnight or so ago."