“Oh, Marion Seaton is perfectly wild. Threatens to leave college if we are not all disciplined. She won’t even come to her classes. Judy, dear, do you think we—will catch it?” She was a dear little freshman, and while she loved the fun of real trouble, especially when some one other than herself was more seriously involved, she did have a little fear of reported college pranks reaching the ears of her ministerial father. He was a good sort (not sport) himself—was Rev. Clarence Bradley, and he had experienced his own college fun, no doubt; but Claire promised, on leaving home, she would never bring disgrace to his curly blond head, with any “bad reports” from school, and the pretty little black-eyed, light curly-haired girl fervently hoped to keep her promise. “I am not a bit afraid of Marian’s threats,” answered Judith boldly. “In fact, I rather think she will be the one to call halt, when we ask for a report of the doings of election night. Marian is not living in a stone house. I fancy there are lots of windows in it, if it is not entirely made of glass, to speak metaphorically.” “And another thing, a lot of the girls are turning against Helen,” went on the communicative Clare. “They say she—is—a free scholar.” “Free scholar!” Judith repeated. “Where have I heard that term before? Oh, yes, it was Poor Scholar in some old book. But free scholar is entirely new. How could one get into Wellington free, may I ask? Have you heard, Clare?” “Oh, you know what I mean. They say she is a scholarship girl and that Jane has adopted her. But you know all that nonsense was exploded before the election,” Clare made haste to add, as she noted the black frown steal over Judith’s face. “Yes, it was, Clare, and I don’t think it ought to be resurrected again,” said Judith, with a show of severity. “However, we will have a pow-wow to-night in the big study room. We got permission to use it to finish up our election work, and if any one wants to ask questions they may do so there. Good bye, Clare, and be sure to come to the pow-wow,” and with a reassuring smile Judith glided away to meet Jane and Helen who were on a bench near the lake. “Rumors, always rumors,” Judith told herself, “but I must keep them from Jane and Helen, if possible. I suppose, as Drusilla said, we will have to pay for our victory.” “Oh, hello, Judy Stearns!” called Jane before the girl with the shifting frown came within talking earshot. “How do you do! I had been planning to send you a wire, or a special, or some sort of message to find out if you were still at Wellington. I scarcely ever see you. Of course, when you are due to sleep you may come in, but by that time I am unconscious. How is the brave warrior?” and Jane swung her free arm around her chum. “I, too, thought our Judy was escaped,” said Helen. “I have so seldom seen her—pretty face.”