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“But apparently there are exceptions,” objected Betty. “Miss Ames—is that her name?—wants to write, or else she wouldn’t have sent you her theme; and she can write, or Dr. Eaton wouldn’t think so. I suppose you know that he’s awfully hard to suit.”

“Well, I hope I can use her kind contribution,” said Mary, rising. “The note she sent with it was rather silly, I thought.”

On her way to dinner Madeline overtook Mary on the stairs. “How was it?” she inquired.

“How was what?“ asked Mary.

“Georgia’s theme.”

“It was hopeless—perfectly hopeless,” declared Mary savagely. “How Dr. Eaton can see anything in her work is more than I can understand. Oh, dear, you know her, don’t you? I hope she isn’t a particular friend.”

“Oh, no,” laughed Madeline, “only a sort of protégée. Besides, what is the use of mincing matters? I hope you’ll tell her frankly what you think of her literary aspirations.”

“I’ve already written to her,” explained Mary, “and I’m afraid I wasn’t exactly frank. Don’t you think it’s easy to make a mistake in such matters, when you don’t know the girl? She might be timid and easily discouraged——”