But the roommate always included her. "How was it, Clara? I don't just
remember what was said," she would say, suddenly turning to the girl who
blushed but answered and found she could, to her great surprise. Under
the warmth of her roommate's confidence in her and pride in her
scholarship and the ease with which she conquered the most difficult
subjects she learned to forget herself. A great longing to help the
girls who found things hard came to her and they gladly accepted her
help and loved her for her sympathy. The months wrought a marvelous
change and though she found it difficult in the presence of the critical
family to talk naturally at first, still the things she had to tell
proved so interesting that they forgot to criticize and she forgot
herself while they listened. At the High School Seniors' banquet she
spoke for her college and her brother declared it the best speech made.

She is a graduate now and all traces of the old awkwardness have left
her. She is reserved but easy, simple and gracious in meeting those whom
her work calls her to meet and her eye and her heart alike are open for
the self-conscious girl wherever she meets her. If she were to try all
her life, she tells me, she could never express her gratitude for what
that roommate did for her.

What was it that happened to her? She forgot herself. People had told
her to do that before but she couldn't, for she felt that they were
watching to see her make the attempt. They called attention to her
shyness, her roommate ignored it. They bade her take part in
conversation and join with others in what they were doing; her roommate
gave her a part in the conversation and made a place for her in all that
they were doing. Her family and school friends said by their manner and
sometimes in words, "The poor girl is so shy, what a pity it is." The
roommate expressed calm confidence in her and in manner and words said,