orld! Education seemed a foolish and meaningless thing
beside the love and comfort of home. What would she not give to be able
to put out her hand and feel her sister Jean beside her, warm and
loving, her own flesh and blood!

So the pillow was damp, as I have said; but Peggy was young and healthy,
and she fell asleep after awhile, and when she woke again the sun was
up and the pillow was dry. Now she did put out her hand for Jean,
forgetting where she was; and finding nothing but a cold wall, lay
looking around her, coming back to the present. The room looked very
strange at first. "Maybe I'm not awake!" said Peggy, wisely; then she
pinched herself, and with the pinch the whole thing came back.

"Why, of course!" she said. "Oh, dear! well, here I am; and I wanted to
come, and I've been thinking about it for months, and then it goes and
is like this!" She sighed, and wondered what they were doing at home,
and at Fernley; then she became interested in her pretty room, and her
heart overflowed once more with love to her dear ones at Fernley, who
had made it so bright and charming for her. "I know what Margaret would
say!" exclaimed Peggy, raising her head from the pillow. "She would say,
'Now you are there, my dear, try to make the best of it;' and so I will!
You hear me!" These last words were spoken aloud with some severity, and
appeared to be addressed to the brush and comb, which took no notice
whatever. And then Peggy made the best of that moment, and got up.

Breakfast was another ordeal, but not so bad as the tea of the night
before; after breakfast came prayers, and then the class-room. Peggy
found herself seated at a desk, beside one of her classmates, Rose
Barclay, a pretty brunette, with rosy cheeks and bright dark eyes. In
the brief pause before study-time, the two girls made acquaintance, and
Peggy learned that theirs was the largest freshman class the school had
ever had. All the others were in the west wing, where the freshmen
belonged.

"You came late," said Rose Barclay, "and that's why you are over among
the Jews and Seas. That's what they call the juniors and seniors; I've
learned so much already!" she said, laughing. "They seem to have
nicknames for everything and everybody in this place."

"Yes!" said Peggy. "Even the rooms are named!" and she told of Vanity
Fair and the Owls' Nest.

"Corridor A?" asked Rose Barclay. "Oh, they must be Jews. That is
Judea, I am pretty sure; and the Senior Corrido