4 ACORN The Sorrows of a Girl "Help, help," came the terrified scream of a girl. Henry Canton, although he was on a regular Sunday evening call and was somewhat late, from a sense of duty and not because he really wanted to help any one in particular, hastened in the direction of the sound. "Who is it and what on earth do you want?" demanded Henry in a deep, angry voice as he heard the footsteps of a person. "Here I am," came the trembling reply. "Pardon me, sir for delaying you, but I was just out for a little evening walk and it became dark so quickly. I was not frightened until an animal or something ran across the road in front of me. My name is Helen Armstrong and I live a mile or so down this road. "Never mind telling all of that to me. Let's go. I am in a hurry." "I don't want you to go with me. If you are in a hurry I can go alone. I appreciate your kindness anyway. Good night." "Miss Armstrong, I am going past your place and if you will allow me the favor I will go with you." The invitation was accepted and the journey was made in silence, except that Henry formally introduced himself and stated that he was going to call upon a friend. A formal "good night" was said at the gate and Henry Canton continued to the home of Miss Monroe, where he fully expected to meet his fate. Henry rapped lightly at the door of the Monroe home and asked for Edith. In answer he was handed a note, which read as follows: follows: Mr. Canton: This is to inform you that I can not see you this evening. As you are late, I do not care to wait for you any longer, and I am going with some friends who have enough to them to keep an appointment. Edith Monroe. Henry said good-night to the young lady who gave the note to him and left the house. He was sorry that he had been late and that any cause for such disappointment had been given by him. His thoughts went back to the Armstrong girl, whom he had "found" in the dark, and his mind was so taken up with her that it could not be said that he felt very badly. For some time after this occurrence Henry Canton was not a regular caller at any girl's home. He treated Edith Monroe as a mere friend, but nothing more. His attention, however, was gradually drawn by Helen Armstrong and it was only a short time until he was a frequent caller at her place. One clear, autumn evening Henry called at the Armstrong home, ACORN 5 and, as one of Helen's favorite pass-times was walking, they went out into the fields for a little stroll. As they came to the place where they first met, Helen asked: "Do you remember the night that we met here when you were on your way to Miss Monroe's and I delayed you so long? You were angry and I was ashamed. But we don't care for that now. Do we?" There was no need of a reply to such a question. Henry Canton's actions were more expressive than words. A Valentine Message "I can only repeat, Evelyn, that I told no one where that banner was," said Carl Morris as he arose from his chair and reached for his hat. "You were the only one that knew where it was, but I might have known that a Junior could not keep a secret on such a subject," exclaimed Evelyn in an angry tone. "You are condemning without evidence. I-" "Evidence! You were with me when I brought the banner home and no one but you and the principal knew I had it," cried Evelyn, not giving Carl time to finish his speech. He watched her for a few seconds, then said: "I see my promise and word are not considered. Perhaps some day you will find that they can be relied upon. Just remember that I seek your company no more until you bid me come." "Which will never be," answered Evelyn as the door opened and closed. The Juniors having defeated their upper classmates in basketball, felt jubilant. They secured the Senior banner from the home of Evelyn Benson, the vice-president of the Senior Class, and draped it about a casket which the boys carried with death-like motion through the chapel exercise. The banner was returned to the class undamaged after the performance, but no one was able to find out how it had been secured. Evelyn regretted very much the attitude she had manifested toward Carl, but her pride would not let her write or say the word "Come." She treated him as a mere acquaintance, and studied hard to finish the first semester's work. It was nearing Valentine's Day. The winter's snow had disappeared in the presence of the warm spring, leaving mud or pools of water everywhere. Evelyn sat in her room looking over old valentines. As she opened one, a large silk handkerchief fell out. In one corner was embroidered a "C." It was one she had given to Carl.