At last hunger came to them. But there was no use going in search of food; for the larder was bare. There was not even a cup of water for them.
For more than an hour Helen had not moved. Fear of the water had passed. A finer feeling than dread inspired her now. Someone from below called Erma, and she left the Philo Hall. She neither laughed nor danced. Even her effervescent spirits had been under the spell of the waters.
Her departure aroused Helen from her reverie. Arising, she came to where Hester sat. Her voice was low. To the old tenderness was added a new sweetness and strength, "Little roommate," she said, "listen to me for a few minutes. Weeks ago, I believed you guilty of an act I could not countenance. I treasured resentment against you, though even while I was doing it, I loved you. I did wrong in not going directly to you and making known my complaint. May I tell it to you now, or shall we let it be as though it never happened, and let all our ugly feeling and bitterness go down with the flood?"
"Let it go with the flood, Helen. I do not know how I erred, but I do know that I missed your friendship. Let us forget it from this minute."
"And let me give what I denied long ago," said Helen, as she stooped to press her lips to Hester's forehead.
CHAPTER XVI
Little by little, the water receded. So slowly did it fall that the eye could not mark it. Over the mud-colored waters, the sun shone brightly and made of the spray a million sparkling diamonds.
By evening, the students began to experience the pangs of hunger and thirst. There was nothing to satisfy them, for although there was water, water, everywhere, there was not a drop to drink. At twilight, the lower floors were above the flood, although at intervals, a sudden splash from without sent little streams back through the door.