re my gloves and my cloak? Oh, here they are,
just where I put them. Now, I must go for her highness. Br--r--" Elfreda
shivered, giggled, then gathering up her cloak and gloves switched out
the door.

Miriam smiled to herself as she went about gathering up her own effects,
then fastening the cluster of yellow rosebuds to the waist of her gown
she hurried out into the hall in time to encounter Grace and Anne.

"We are fortunate in that our ladies live under the same roof with us,"
laughed Anne.

"It certainly saves carriage hire," returned Grace. "Here comes Elfreda
and Miss Atkins. What on earth is she wearing?"

"I think I'll go for my freshman," said Miriam, her voice quivering
suspiciously.

By the time Elfreda and the Anarchist had reached the head of the
stairs, the three girls had fled precipitately, unable to control their
mirth. Elfreda's face was set in a solemn expression that defied
laughter. As for the Anarchist herself, she might easily have posed as a
statue of vengeance. Her eyebrows were drawn into a ferocious scowl. She
walked down the stairs with the air of an Indian chief about to tomahawk
a victim. Her white silk gown, which was well cut and in keeping with
the occasion, contrasted oddly with her threatening demeanor, which was
enhanced by a feather hair ornament that stood up belligerently at one
side of her head.

"If she wouldn't wear that feather thing she'd be all right," muttered
Grace in Anne's ear. "She looks like Hiawatha. She has made up her mind
to be nice with Elfreda. She's wearing her flowers. I wonder if I'd
better ask her to dance to-night. Shall you ask her, Anne?"

"I think so," reflected Anne. "I can't lead very well, but perhaps she
can."

"I don't believe I'll ask her," said Grace slowly. "Humiliating one's
self needlessly is just as bad as having too much pride."

"Hurry," called Miriam, who was already on the stairs. "The carriages
are here."

It was a ridiculously short drive to the gymnasium, but, a fine rain
having set in, carriages for one's freshmen guests were a matter of
necessity. Elfreda and her charge occupied seats in the same carriage
with Anne and Mildred Taylor, who, in a gown of pink chiffon over pink
silk, looked, according to Elfreda, "too sweet to live."

"How are you getting along with Miss Atkins?" asked Grace an hour later,
running up and waylaying Elfreda, who was slowly making her way across
the gymnasium toward the corner of the room where