Brenda's cousin at Radcliffe

by Helen Leah Reed

“Naturally, if every one helps,” and Julia smiled; “but of course you can count on me, for I should be only too glad to see Lois loaded with honors. I consider her the very ablest girl in the class. What a credit she’ll be to us on the Commencement platform, with second-year honors, and a summa cum, and probably with a prize or two thrown in!”

Polly, if the truth were known, was perhaps more anxious to have Lois regarded as a probable candidate because she had heard that Annabel was also turning her thoughts in the direction of this office. Therefore, early and late, and without making her efforts too evident, she tried to create a sentiment in favor of Lois, so that when the election should come, it would seem the most natural thing in the world for her to be chosen.

On the whole, in this its Junior year the class was more united than ever before. At the Junior luncheon, more than one of those who responded to the toasts called attention to this fact. Annabel was still Class President, and indeed most of the class officers remained the same. But I am not sure that Polly would have admitted that this was a real sign of class unity. Annabel was still a conspicuous figure at the Idler theatricals, and she had even written a little play herself. Some of her admirers said that it contained passages that were wittier than anything in the operetta. But the authors of the operetta, composer and librettist, were not disturbed when this was repeated to them. Julia was not ambitious to shine again as a composer, at least for the present. Her very success had made her realize her own limitations, and she decided to make no further effort in this direction until she had perfected herself in the underlying principles. Nor did Polly intend to appear before the world as a full-fledged author. So the praise of Annabel, as sung by her special admirers, did not disturb her.

A few of the girls who were especially fond of society went out more than during the first two years. Some attended the Cambridge Assemblies, and an energetic group arranged a series of Junior dances, which, sanctioned by those in authority, proved altogether delightful. Julia attended the Assemblies largely because Brenda urged her to, and Brenda and a crowd of young people from town came out to them.

Clarissa went to the Junior dances, but she was not sufficiently in society to be asked to the Assemblies. Clarissa, however, had a faculty of enjoying herself at all times, and she did not show that she felt certain slights offered her, notably that of keeping her off the team.

In the natural course of events, she should have been chosen captain, but the influence of Alma Stacey was strong, and Clarissa was not even on the team.

But college festivities were not the only pleasures offered the girls. Not a few of the class who lived at home in Boston or Cambridge or the suburbs entertained at their own houses. An occasional tea, an evening of private theatricals, all these things relieved delightfully the monotony of study. Yet to a popular girl they offered great temptations for wasting time, and in college life, as in the outside world, it was hard to draw the line between necessary and unnecessary amusements. But when a wave of whist swept through the class, some of the more sedate began to protest.

“Oh, but it strengthens the mind, it really does,” pleaded Polly, when Julia remonstrated; “and you know I’m not dancing—or anything,” glancing down at her black gown.

“Yes, but afternoon whist parties, and two or three of them a week! Why, you will soon have no mind for anything else.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure of that, though it’s time to begin to study a little, as the mid-years are coming. But you look so sad over it, Julia, that I may swear off, like our old friend Rip.”