No, Judy had other things to do apparently. "Won't you come, Otoyo, dear?" asked Molly, slipping her arm around the little Japanese's waist and giving it a squeeze. "It is not possible. I am exceedingly sorrowful," answered Otoyo a little stiffly and drew away from Molly's embrace. "Aren't you well, little one?" asked Molly. "Is anything the matter?" "Oh, exceedingly, quite well, but I cannot go to-day, Mees Brown," Otoyo answered, trying to infuse a little warmth into her tone. So it ended by Molly's going off alone with the young man from New York to the _Commune_ office, where she showed him their files and the proofs sent up by the printer in the village, which had to be corrected; then she introduced him into the little alcove office where Edith was wont to write her famous editorials. "How would you like to write an article for my paper, Miss Brown?" Jimmy asked suddenly. "We run a page of college news, you know." He had no idea that Molly could write or that the paper would take anything from her if she did. He had merely talked at random and was a little taken back when Molly clasped her hands joyously and cried: "Oh, and would they pay me?" "Of course," he answered, hoping devoutly in his heart they would. "I'll tell you what you do. This is the Jubilee Year at Wellington, isn't it?" "Yes; it's been officially announced at last." "Well, you could use that as a starter, with a little of the history of Wellington and the big festival you're going to have, and then you could go on and give some talk about the girls,--what you do and all that. There could be pictures of the cloisters and the library, perhaps." "What a wonderful chance to answer Miss Slammer's article," Molly thought. "It's just what we would have wanted and never dreamed of getting. It's so kind of you," she said aloud. "I would be proud to do it for nothing if the paper doesn't want to pay----" "Oh, it'll pay you all right if it takes the story. You may get anywhere from ten to thirty-five dollars for it." "Why, that's enough to buy a dress," she exclaimed involuntarily, and Jimmy decided in his heart that he would sell that article if he had to wear the soles off his boots walking up and down Park Row. "I suppose you'd like it simple," said Molly. Jimmy laughed. "Well, we don't like anything flowery," he said, "but you write it the way you like and I'll change it if necessary. Just tell about things as if you were writing a letter home." "There it is again," thought Molly. "First the Professor and now Mr. Lufton." They finished the morning with a walk and Jimmy Lufton entertained Molly with a hundred stories about his life in New York, and then he listened to her while she talked about college and home and her hopes.