At first Eleanor's impulse had been just what Jean had suggested. She wanted to get into the background, away from the noisy demonstrations and the curious or idle inquiries about her omission from the "Argus" board. Ever since she entered college, fully informed by her upper class friends about all the ways of putting oneself forward and all the offices and honors that a clever girl might aspire to, Eleanor had looked forward to the day of the "Argus" elections as her hour of greatest triumph. Now Emily Davis had the place that might have been hers, and she was slinking home by a back path, hoping to avoid meeting any one. She looked across the greening campus and saw little Helen Adams also hurrying home. Her lips curled scornfully as she watched Helen's joyous progress, for to her as to Jean this late hard-won recognition would have had in it more humiliation than triumph. Then all at once her face softened as the idea of the supper came to her.