“F. Andrews.”
Molly read the letter aloud and the girls were half sorry and half relieved over its contents. After all, Frances was a very disturbing element, but as Margaret Wakefield announced later at a meeting of the G. F. Society, she had responded to kind treatment, and she, Margaret, moved that they send her a combination steamer letter of farewell and a bunch of violets to cheer her on her lonely voyage. The movement was promptly seconded by Molly, carried by universal acclaim, and the resolution put into effect immediately.
After Christmas comes the terror of every freshman’s heart—the mid-year examinations. As the dreaded week approached, lights burned late in every house on the campus and nobody offered any interference. Behind closed doors sat scores of weary maidens with pale concentrated faces bent over text-books.
Judy Kean made a record at Queen’s. She crammed history for thirty-six hours at a stretch, only stopping for food occasionally or to snatch a half hour’s nap.
It was Saturday and bitter cold. Examinations were to begin on Monday, and there yet remained two more blessed days of respite. Molly, in a long, gray dressing gown, with a towel wrapped around her head, had been cramming mathematics since six in the morning, and now at eleven o’clock, she lifted her eyes from the hated volume and looked about her with a dazed expression as if she had suddenly awakened from a black dream. Nance had hurried into the room.
“Molly, for heaven’s sake, go to Judy. I think she’s losing her mind. She has overstudied and it has affected her brain. I can’t do anything with her at all.”
“What?” cried Molly, rushing down the hall, her long, gray wrapper trailing after her in voluminous folds.
She opened Judy’s door unceremoniously and marched in.
The room looked as if a cyclone had struck it. The contents of the bureau drawers were dumped onto the floor; the closet was emptied, clothes and books piled about on the bed and chairs, and Judy’s two trunks filled up what floor space remained.
Judy herself was working feverishly. She had packed a layer of books in one of the trunks and was now folding up her best dresses.