"You will never make me believe that," Miss Mays had exclaimed with unnecessary vigor. "Mrs. Aldred has the register, ask her." "Oh, Miss Craven may have said that was her age. And who knows anything about her? She keeps to herself as if there was something not quite----" ending with a disagreeable emphasis. "Girls," began another, "we all know if there was anything wrong or discreditable she would not be here. I do not call her an attractive girl, but if we do not like her we can let her alone. She lets us alone. We can't say she has forced herself in our society." "A vote of thanks from one for speaking up for her," said Helen gayly. "And, of course, Mrs. Aldred knows." "And Miss Grant, the baby of the school, has been taken into confidence. Pray do enlighten us. Did she come from India or the Fiji Islands, where education is sadly neglected?" "For all information on the subject, I refer you to Mrs. Aldred." Helen was angry, but she kept her temper. The ridiculous side of it all occurred to her, and another thought--What if Uncle Jason should come striding into the hall when half the girls were standing around? What would they say about her? How could girls be so mean and ungenerous? This had happened some days before the talk. And now, after a moment or two of silence, Helen said to Miss Craven, "There is a verse in Proverbs, I think I heard it read in church one Sunday, 'He that would have friends must show himself friendly.'" "I don't want any friend but you." There was a great tremble in Miss Craven's voice and she began to cry. "And you will not let me advise you about the little things that make so much difference with girls." How did _she_ know? Helen flushed at her own assumption, and yet she _did_ understand. She pitied Juliet Craven profoundly, too. "Oh, don't cry. Can't I comfort you with some word? See here, I really love you. You are so brave, so persevering, you have had such a hard, lonely life, and I would like to make it brighter." "Oh, Helen! Oh, Miss Grant." "No; keep to the Helen," the younger girl interrupted. "To have you love me! But I might have known so much care and kindness could only spring from love. Oh, I think I shall not mind the other girls now. I've been longing so for real love. Are you quite sure? It seems too good when I have been making myself content with a simple liking." She pressed Helen's hands to her hot cheeks, wet with tears. Helen kissed her on the forehead, but the elder drew her face down and returned the kiss many times. "The dinner bell will ring in a few moments," Helen declared presently, "and we must both make ourselves fit to be seen, not of men, but between thirty and forty feminines. I wish your gowns were not quite so grave, but spring is on the way and we will take to light raiment and look like a flock of birds. Good-by for five minutes," and she flashed away.