Hester was not a girl to condescend to subterfuge to gain a point. She was often frank to painfulness. To her mind when one wished a favor, the only way was to speak directly and ask for it. She was neither politic nor tactful. She had decided that basket-ball was the one game that was really worth playing. Tennis was old and did not appeal to her. She and Jane Orr had played tennis ever since they had been old enough to hold a racquet. But basket-ball! The thought of it sent the blood coursing through her veins.

At the first opportunity, she spoke to Helen. She went to the subject directly like a bullet to the bull's eye.

"Sara Summerson told me you were captain of the first team and that you had a good bit of influence in getting the girls on the other teams. I would like to play and I wish you would put me on. Will you?"

"I cannot put you on the first or even the scrub. I must pick from the substitute teams to fill any vacancy. I have nothing at all to do with the sub. The physical instructor does that, and of course picks out the girls whom she thinks will be able to play the game. But I'll speak to her about you."

"I wish you would," said Hester. "I'm fairly aching to get into a game."

"You'll be completely aching after your first practice," said Helen.

"I'll soon get over it. My muscles were sore for days when I tried to skate, but I didn't mind."

The first gymnasium meeting for new students was held Monday afternoon and Hester was first girl in the room. Helen had promised to go with her to see that she met Miss Watson but Helen was deliberate and Hester impatient. So Hester sat alone in the gymnasium for half an hour before any one appeared.

Miss Watson was a practical worker. Before many minutes had passed, she had the students enrolled, the classes organized and the time appointed for meetings. Having dispatched the regular routine work, she began the organization of squads for tennis and basket-ball. These were primarily to train the girls for work in the first teams which played the tournament games with other schools.

Before she began her arrangements, Helen Loraine spoke with her. The conversation could not be heard, but Miss Watson looked toward Hester, smiled and nodded in affirmation. A few minutes later, she read the names. Among the freshmen substitutes were Hester's and Berenice's names.

"But Berenice played last year," whispered someone near Hester. "She plays a good game, too. Why didn't Miss Watson put her first or scrub?"

The reply came but too low for Hester's ears. Helen was waiting in the corridor when Hester came out. "I know; Miss Watson said she would put you on. You'll have a good place for passing. You know the game from observation. But if I were you, I'd read the rules again and again. If you have them fairly fixed in your mind you are not so apt to make a foul play. Do your best, and you may work up to one of the other teams before long. Erma Thomas may not come back after the first of the year. That will leave one place for a substitute. She plays right guard. She's one of the finest passers we've had, but she gets rattled if she tries to make a goal. She's too nervous to play when she is conscious that any one is looking at her."

Hester was confident that she would not lose her head if the opportunity to make a goal came to her. Following Helen's instructions, she studied the book of rules. She was early at the first practice. Miss Watson gave the positions; Helen was referee. Hester was given the place of right guard.

"Keep your eyes open," said Helen. "I would give a good bit if you could make a play to put you on the first team."

Berenice was left guard. A moment before the game was called, she came up to Hester and spoke low that the others might not hear. "Helen Loraine knows the game, but there's a whole lot of things she never sees. Louise Reed is your opponent. She's not at all a suspicious girl. You see to it that we win. They always pick substitutes from the team which wins."

Hester knew little of the subtleties of human nature, and consequently could not grasp the full import of the remark Berenice had made.

Renee Loveland and Josephine Moore were captains. To Hester it seemed like an hour of intense excitement before the ball was in the air and Renee had sent it forward toward her.

"Don't hold it—don't hold it," was the one thought in Hester's mind, for that rule in particular, had made a peculiar impression upon her. She was naturally a quick actor. Now the ball was scarcely within her clutches until it was out again across the room to Berenice. Hester rushed toward the goal, just as Berenice, jerking under the arm of her opponent, passed the ball back to Hester. Again Hester deftly returned it; making a backward movement just as Louise was about to cover her. Again Berenice deftly caught it and dribbled for a yard or more. They were near enough to the basket for a goal; but Berenice's opponent covered her. The ball went flying direct across the cage. Louise made a dash; Hester sprang forward and covered her. In the excitement of the play, Hester had put forward two hands. Just as quickly she remembered and swung her right arm about Louise, while with her left hand, she tossed the ball straight into Renee's clutch. Renee, who knew the game and played it well, did not lose her presence of mind. Like a flash, she gave a forward leap and sent the ball to goal. But while it curved downward in the air, the whistle of the referee was heard.

"Foul on the freshmen," she cried. "Right guard used two hands to cover."

"I think you are mistaken," cried Berenice. "I wasn't playing. Hester Alden's arm was raised, but it did not touch her opponent."

"Yes; I did!" cried Hester. "I touched her and then remembered."

"I didn't know. It must have been a very slight touch," said Louise.

"We've scored," cried Berenice.

"I am refereeing the game. Foul on the freshmen." Determination shone in Helen's eyes as she gave Berenice a look that would have subdued a sensitive person. Turning about, Hester tossed the ball to Louise who made a goal from the foul of the freshmen team. The ball went back to center and the game again was on.

At the end of the first half, the score stood six to eight in favor of the sophomores.

Berenice came up to Hester while she was struggling into her sweater. "You see how it is," she whispered. Her eyes were snapping with anger and her voice fairly hissed. "You see what a little prude like you can do. If you would have sustained me, Renee's goal would have counted us two, and Louise would have had no chance to make a goal or foul. It would have been 8 to 7 in our favor."

"But I really did touch," said Hester. "It was a foul, all right. I suppose I should have remembered in time; but this is my first game, and there's a lot to learn."

"There's something that you will never learn," was the retort and Berenice turned and walked away.

Hester did not grasp all that Berenice wished to convey. She believed the girl was vexed because of the score and attributed Berenice's anger to righteous indignation at bad playing. Helen came up before the beginning of the second half. "What about playing this, Hester?" she asked. "You did some hard playing for a new girl. Do you think you can stand it for a second half? You'll be stiff to-morrow. I'll ask Renee to have Edna Bucher substitute for you."

"I'd rather finish, myself," cried Hester. "Why, I wouldn't stop now for worlds!"

"Your own sore muscles be upon yourself then, little roommate," said Helen smiling. "I have warned you. All that is left for me is to offer the use of my witch-hazel and arnica."

"I will not have Edna Bucher substitute," cried Renee coming up. "I am glad Hester has grit enough to keep to it. This evening we must make a score."

"And to-morrow there will be wailing and groaning and rubbing of muscles," said Helen. The ten minutes was up. Helen moved toward the center of the cage.

During the second half, Hester had no active work. She guarded Louise and was careful not to make another foul move. Berenice was an active player, getting so interested in the game that she forgot her special work. She never played into another's hand. Although Renee was the champion at throwing goals, Berenice risked the score rather than give the play to the center. She appeared determined that Hester should not come within touch of the ball, and she moved like a flash of light, hither and thither, across the cage, seeming to be everywhere at once.

Helen watched the game closely. She was an impartial referee; her one desire being to play a fair game. She was aware of Berenice's playing at cross purposes and watched her closely. At last she called a foul.

"I don't see why," cried Berenice. Her little beady eyes snapped as she approached Helen and looked defiantly up at her.

"Two-hand dribble—the second time you have done the same thing. The first I let pass unnoticed just—to give you time."

"I positively did not two-hand the ball. If that is a foul, I—"

"I am a referee. Get out of the game. Edna Bucher is called to substitute."

"I will not—" began Berenice.

"Get out of the game within a minute or you shall be penalized for all the games to follow." There was no disputing Helen. Her manner was calm and her voice low, but authority was in her bearing. She stood ready to give the signal to play; but before she put the whistle to her lips, she said quietly, "While I am managing, we'll play an honest game or we will not play at all."

The girls, except Berenice, cheered and clapped. She was making her way from the gymnasium. Her heart was filled with anger and a scowl was on her face. How she hated Helen Loraine! It was not the first time Helen had criticised her.

"And Hester Alden will be another one just like Helen—too goody-good to live," was her thought. Even after Berenice was being disqualified, Hester did not understand fully all that had taken place. It was not until they were at the baths, that a full understanding came to her. Outside the bath, were the lockers. Sara and Renee had come up and paused for a moment.

"Will you allow Berenice to play next game?" asked Sara.

"Miss Watson must settle that. The captain and referee may disqualify for one game; but to make it permanent penalizing, the matter must be brought before Miss Watson. It is a very difficult matter to explain. The best way would be to have Miss Watson referee for one or two games. Then she would grasp the subtleties of the situation."

They passed on. When they were almost beyond hearing, Renee's voice sounded loud and clear.

"Sara, I do wish you'd let me wear your tan shoes down town to-morrow evening. I have permission to go, and I wish to wear my brown suit, but I have no tan shoes. I wear the same size as you."

Hester smiled. She had known Renee but ten days, during which time she could not remember one instance when the conversation did not conclude with "will you lend?"

Hester was deliberate in matters of getting from a gym suit into a dress. When she was ready to appear, the corridor leading from the gymnasium baths was deserted except for the sweep-women who were putting the finishing touches to their work.

Hester hurried out. As she crossed the campus, she found Josephine Moore sitting on the steps leading up to the dormitory. From this place, there was an excellent view of the river and the mountain beyond. Josephine appeared to be spellbound by it. She was a large girl with quantities of brown hair which she drew loosely back and coiled at the back of her head. Her eyes were large, lusterless and of a weak and faded blue, but Josephine had read novels and knew what speaking eyes meant. She tried to make her eyes soulful. She was of a romantic turn of mind, and although she would not have prevaricated for the world or done another harm by repeating anything to their detriment, she was a dreamer of day-dreams. So well did she dream that it was difficult sometimes for her to know where truth ended and dreams began.

"Can you not sit a while?" she asked. She moved to make room beside herself. Her voice was low and full and had in it a pathetic quality which was in harmony with her dreams. Hester sat down beside her. Being somewhat awed by this magnificent creature with the soulful eyes, Hester sat in silence.

"I love this time of day," began Josephine in low rapturous voice. "I love the gathering twilight. I think this is the hour when poets must sit and dream. The world and work and all horrid things are passing and only the tender twilight hangs like a mantle over all." She paused and looked at her companion. Hester felt that a reply of some sort was expected. She said the first and easiest thing that came to mind. "Yes, it is sort of nice."

"'Nice' is scarcely the word. I wish I knew what would exactly express the feeling. Sublime, soulful—" She paused and raised her eyes as though to scan the heavens. "I suppose I feel differently from other people. They tell me that my singing shows soul. I myself have often noticed the difference between myself and other girls. Would you believe it? They pass here with laughter and jest. I cannot do that. I always pause and look at the trees and river. It seems as though a spell comes upon me. I cannot laugh and jest in the midst of such sublime things."

"Is Hester Alden there?" cried a gay voice. "Oh, is that you, Jo? Mooning? You had better come in. If you sit on those cold stones, you'll take cold and your nose will be red and your eyes watery. You'll not be sublime then." The cheer and good-nature in the voice robbed it of ill-feeling. Erma laughed as she appeared. No one could take exception to anything she said. She was too happy—too well satisfied with the world and the people about her to do anything or say anything in bitterness.

Josephine arose slowly as became one of a poetic and soulful temperament.

"You are the slowest mortal, Jo. You are wanted up in Philo Hall. You haven't fifteen minutes until the first study bell. The girls have been looking everywhere for you. You are on the program committee."

"I was carried away—," began Miss Moore. But Erma had turned her back upon the girl. As she was about to speak to Hester, she was diverted from her intention by the sound of wheels. Both she and Hester turned to look as a carriage with a coachman in livery, came from porte-cochere, turned down the driveway and passed within a few feet of where the girls stood. The carriage passed under an arc light and Erma and Hester saw distinctly the features of the woman in the carriage. She had a beautiful face, although marked with care. Her hair was white, yet her bearing as she sat erect, was that of a young woman.

"What a sweet face!" cried Hester. "That is the carriage that blocked our way, the day that Aunt Debby came up to school with me. I remember most distinctly."

The occupant of the carriage had not looked in their direction. Even had she done so, she could not have distinguished the girls; for they stood leaning against the pillars and the moving shadows fell dark upon them.

When the carriage had passed, Erma turned to her companion. "Helen was looking for you. I told her if I saw you, I'd tell you to go to your room. Helen has had company—at least I saw someone in her room."

"It may be Aunt Debby," cried Hester. She did not wait to explain. She paused not to excuse herself, but went racing down the corridor as fast as her feet would carry her. Her heels clattered on the hard wood floors and the sound of her labored breathing was audible at a considerable distance.

Just as she reached Number Fifteen, the door opened and Hester was taken by the arm. This was so unexpected that her first impulse was to jerk away, and hurry on. Fortunately a sober second thought overcame the impulse.

"Miss Alden, is the building burning? Why this haste?" Hester raised her eyes to those of the preceptress. Miss Burkham was the acme of all that was cultured and elegant. No imagination was strong enough to picture her, other than deliberate, low-voiced, serene of countenance. Hester who knew more of bluntness than irony, replied fearlessly, "No, there is no fire. I wished to get to my room as quickly as possible."

"So I surmised. But I see no necessity for this unladylike haste." Her restraining hand was yet upon Hester's shoulder. The girl felt herself quivering with the desire to be off down the corridor and up the stairs to Number Sixty-two. What if Aunt Debby should really be there waiting for her? Her heart beat fast with the thought.

Miss Burkham also felt the quivering of flesh under restraint. She delayed Hester yet longer while she made plain to her the unwritten by-laws of a lady's conduct.

"No lady races through the halls, in such fashion. It is the manner of a tom-boy. You may walk slowly down the corridor. I will stand here to see if you comprehend just what I mean by slowly. I trust that I may not be compelled to ask you to return in order that I may give you instructions in regard to the manner in which a lady walks."

"No, Miss Burkham," replied Hester humbly. She controlled her impatience at being thus detained. Miss Burkham released her and Hester moved forward as though by well-directed machinery.

On reaching Number Sixty-two, she found Helen standing before her dressing-table. She was alone. She turned as Hester entered.

"Little roommate," she said smiling a welcome at Hester. "Little roommate, I am vexed with you. I have been sending messengers everywhere in the hope of finding you. My dear Aunt Harriet was here and asked for you in particular. She waited until the last possible moment. And see there."

Helen pointed to a hamper which stood near the doorway. "She has brought us fruit, cake, and roasted chickens. No, I did not open the basket. Aunt Harriet told me what was there. It is for you as well as for me. I know Aunt Harriet, and I know how the basket is arranged. There will be a chicken for you and one for me; a box of fudge for you and one for me; and so on through the entire menu. Aunt Harriet is very much afraid that some girl will have her feelings hurt or feel slighted. Open up the basket, Hester. I must take off this waist. The collar hurts me. It always was too high. I'll feel more comfortable in a kimona."

She turned to her dressing table. "Aunt Harriet brought me something which pleased me. I have an old pin which belonged to mother when she was a girl. I thought I had lost it, but Aunt Harriet said I left it at her home and she brought it with her."

Helen held the pin in her hand while she talked. Then she laid it carelessly in a little pin tray on the dresser. It was a pin of unusual style, about the size of a dime. The outer band was of a peculiar gold. Within this was a yellowish-white stone which reflected the light like a flame of fire.

Hester's eyes would have opened wide at the sight of the pin, but she did not see it, for her attention was on the hamper she was unpacking.