irls, curled up on the two beds, were gossiping blithely, while a
sixth, a pretty, red-haired girl, was gaily unpacking her trunk,
flinging her lingerie with great skill across the room into the open
drawers of the bureau, which caught stockings and petticoats very much
as a dog will catch a bone in his mouth. They were all having such a
good time--and they all seemed to have a lengthy history of gay
summer's doings to relate. Each one jabbered away, apparently
perfectly regardless of what the others were saying.

"Oh, my dear, I _did_ have the most marvellous time----"

"Dick told me----"

"Are you going to come out next winter----"

"Margie's wedding was perfectly gorgeous--and _I_ caught the
bouquet----"

"Tom is coming down for the midwinter dance----"

"Who _is_ that frump who's rooming with Sara----"

"Dozens of new girls. Hope some of 'em are human, anyway----"

"Come on, Alma. Hurry! You haven't even washed yet," said Nancy,
impatiently. "We've got to go down-stairs----"

"Yes, and stand around gaping like ninnies," added Alma, morosely,
coming back to the mirror, and beginning to brush out her thick, yellow
hair.

"It'll be ever so much nicer when we come back here after the Christmas
holidays," said Nancy, busily polishing her nails, to hide the mist
that would creep over her eyes. "To-morrow we can fix up this room a
bit--if we can put up some chintz curtains, and get a few books and
cushions around, it'll be as good as home, almost."

"But--but Mother won't be here, and neither will Hannah--boo-hoo!" And
here Alma quite suddenly burst out crying, wrinkling up her pretty face
like a child of two. With the tears dripping off her chin, she
continued to brush her hair vigorously, sobbing and sniffling
pathetically. Nancy looked up, and, unable any longer to control her
own tears, while at the same time she was almost hysterically amused by
Alma's ridiculously droll expression of grief, began to sob and giggle
alternately. Alma, still clutching the brush, promptly threw herself
into Nancy's arms, and there they sat, clinging together, and frankly
wailing like a pair of lost children, in full view of the corridor.

"I--I want to--g-go h-home----" sniffled Alma.

"I--I don't like that girl with th-the n-nose----" wailed Nancy. "D-Do
f-fix your hair, Alma. I-If you're l-late for d-dinner w-we'll be
expelled. Here----" she tried to twist up Alma's unruly mane, hardly
realizing what she _