“Oh, yes, Judy. I do not mean on the matter of her health. I refer to the way she is always—sort of hiding, and so afraid of strangers. Why does she do that?” the deep frown of vexation clouded Jane’s pretty face. “Of course, Jane, that is queer. But we have her as our special—friend,” Judith did not say “charge,” “and we are going to see her through. I don’t claim to have more brains than you have, but I just want to support yours. I believe we should agree with the freshmen, assist them with their play, by notifying all the classes that Helen the virtuoso, will play original music. This should put the quietus on the gossip, and incidentally constitute a big ad for the show.” Jane rested her pretty head in her hands. Even for one schooled in school troubles, the settling of this perplexity assumed baffling proportions. Finally she looked up with an expression of decision. Judith smiled expectantly. “All right, Judy. We will call the meeting and make the announcement. Helen has agreed to take part in the play, and we have no reason—apparently—to think she would object to having her part in the program announced. Of course, I shall be careful to announce the entire program.” “Oh, you angel child! Woe is me that my ankle prohibits a jig!” and Judith flung her arms around Jane—Jane regained in apparent happiness and good nature. CHAPTER XXII—JANE ALLEN: CENTER The day of the final practice game—that which was to decide which team would have the honor to play the Breslins, found every member of all teams fairly quivering with anticipation. Jane, Judith, Dozia and Drusilla held a little preliminary meeting at which the team’s respective places were arranged. Judith, still incapacitated, was to serve as a scorer, and Norma Travers to take her place as forward. “I am not afraid of any one but Dolorez Vincez,” remarked the ever-wise Drusilla. “She has a form all her own.” “Yes, Dol is a wonderful player,” agreed Jane. “I wonder where she got such fine training.” “She never speaks of her former school,” Dozia commented with a meaning not specified in her actual words. “What do you mean, Dozia? Have you an idea there is a dark mystery, in the former school days, of the dashing Dol?” asked Jane. “I would not be surprised if that just about described it, Janey,” said Dozia with a wag of her “roped” head. Dozia’s braids were the pride of her classmates, and the despair of Dozia. They were wonderful braids, like the milkmaids of old, and in color a challenging brown. Judith gave them that shade. “Mercy me!” exclaimed Judith. “Pray, we do not stumble on any more mysteries or our athletics may as well be shelved. It seems to me this year is mostly squabbles and mysteries.” “Well, I did not intend to say anything about it,” confided Dozia. “But I am sure, there is something more than queer about Dolorez. Naturally, one hates so to take exception to the girls who are foreigners. It always looks like prejudice.”