"Weeping!" repeated Betty, laughing at the idea of the stately Lucile dissolved in tears. "Not much. She was so calm and cool that I thought she must have flunked and was trying to cover it up. She had five examinations, Mary, and they might have been five afternoon teas for all she seemed to care; and she isn't a dig or a prod, or anything of that kind, either. So I got worried and made her go all over the questions with me. As far as I could see, she did awfully well. Anyhow I don't believe she can possibly have flunked." "What a good idea!" said Mary admiringly. "I'm afraid I didn't take a serious enough view of my responsibilities last spring. But then the eighth cousin was perfectly hopeless and it was a mercy to everybody concerned that she failed. She was the kind of person that would rather risk making a bad break than leave anything out. In her English exam. they asked her what a leviathan was,--it's mentioned in 'Paradise Lost,' you know,--and she said 'a country near Thrace.' I think myself that was her finish. It doesn't do to be so positive unless you know you're in the right." "I don't believe it's ever best to be positive," said Betty sadly. "I was so positive that I wanted a single room, and now I've got one, and I'm missing Helen Chase Adams already." "Oh, you'll like it when you're settled," Mary reassured her, glancing around the room. "Why do you have all the chiffonier drawers open at once?" "They stick," explained Betty savagely, "every blessed one of them. I've got them all open now except the bottom one, but it took me almost an hour, and I'm not going to risk having to do it all over again. And almost every one of the hooks in the closet is broken, so I can't hang up my dresses; and look at the spots on that wall!" Mary squinted near-sightedly at the black stains. "Jane Drew must have had a quarrel with one of her pictures and thrown an ink bottle at it," she said. "I wonder how she covered up the tragedy. I never noticed those spots last year." "She must have had a very big picture," said Betty. "My biggest Gibson girl won't do it. And my desk won't go into that corner where Jane had hers." "Number twenty-seven must have shrunk during the summer," said Mary. "I hope my palatial apartment hasn't lost any of its six by ten spaciousness." There was a long pause. "Mary," began Betty at last, "are you tired or are you blue?" "Blue," declared Mary savagely, "blue as a heron. (Did we ever find one in the Mary-Bird-Club, Betty?) I wondered if you'd notice it. I hate being a senior. I know it's going to be perfectly deadly--this seeing the last of things. How do you like being a junior?" Betty hesitated. "Mary, does it always last,--the fun of college? Did you ever know a girl who'd been very, very fond of it for two years to get tired of it all of a sudden?"