cheeks
and perfectly round eyes, had bravely essayed a conversation.

"Are you going to Miss Leland's?"

"Yes."

"Is this your first year?"

"Yes."

"What's your names?"

The Prescotts gave her the information, and she told them in exchange
that her name was Maizie Forrest, that she was from Pittsburgh, that
she had a brother at Yale, and another at Pomfret, and that she thought
it no end of fun that they, the Prescotts, were going to Miss Leland's.
After this flow of confidence, conversation languished and expired in
the silence of dismal thoughts.

The hack drove up to the door, and deposited the four girls on the
steps. Then they entered the hall, from which was issuing a perfect
babel of feminine squeaks and chattering.

As Nancy and Alma stood together, frankly clinging hand to hand, a
husky damsel rushed past them and precipitated herself on the neck and
shoulders of the conversational Maizie.

"Maizie, darling!"

"Jane, dearest! When did you get here?"

"Been here hours. My dear, we're going to room together! Isn't that
scrumptious?"

"Perfectly divine. Where's Alice?"

"Hasn't come yet. Come on, let's go see M'amzelle."

The small, weepy girl stood still gazing mournfully at the rapturous
meetings about her.

Nancy looked at her sympathetically, but she felt much too blue and
strange herself to try to urge anyone else to be cheerful.

"I don't know where we go, or what we're supposed to do, do you?" she
whispered to Alma.

"No. I hope to goodness it's near supper time. There, I think that's
Miss Leland."

A tall, very thin, very erect lady, wearing nose-glasses attached to a
long gold chain, and with sparkling, fluffy white hair that made her
face look quite brown in contrast, was descending the stairs. Several
of the girls rushed to her, and she kissed them peckishly. Evidently
they were old pupils. Nancy and Alma heard her asking them about their
dear mothers and their charming fathers, and where they had been during
the summer, and if (playfully) they were going to work very, very hard.
And the girls were saying:

"_Dear_ Miss Leland, it's so _nice_ to be back again!"

Nancy and Alma approached her a little uncertainly. The other girls
drew back and frankly stared at them. "New girls," they heard
whispered, and for some reason the appellation made them both feel
terribly "out of it."

"Miss Leland," began Nancy, coloring, "I--I'm Anne Prescott--I--this is
my sister