In our apprehension and unsophistication, we thought this continued brushing aside of our curtains must be done intentionally. Not then realizing how narrow the aisles were, or that it was not the same person going by repeatedly, we grew angry: “If I hear him coming again I shall grab the curtains together and hold them, so he can’t brush them aside,” I said resolutely to Belle. The steps soon came again, the curtains began moving. I made a desperate grab to hold them together, but, oh horrors! what happened! “What’s wanted?” I heard in calm, clear, gentlemanly tones, and then learned that I had also grabbed the coat of a passer-by! Chagrined, I stammered, “I--I--thought----,” and suddenly realizing my mistake, felt the impossibility of explaining my awkward blunder--the man had doubtless inadvertently brushed past, as had the others, in the narrow aisle. His innocent coat-tail released, he passed on. Wondering in shame what he must have thought of us, we suddenly awakened to the realization that no one was inclined to molest us; that our school fellows had been telling us “yarns”; and we had better lie down and try to sleep. So, using the hat-pin to fasten the refractory draperies, we lay down to sleep, though fitfully, the long night through. As we breakfasted from our lunch-boxes in the morning, we felt years older; how long it seemed since we had left the little village amid the drumlins! We were in a new world. It was raining when we reached Boston, which did not add to our light-heartedness. How queer to see so many strange faces; everyone so busy, so intent upon his own concerns, oblivious to the forlorn girls transplanted to the strange city--everyone but the horrid, importunate cab-drivers who leaned out from their stalls, and beckoned and called to us, bewildering us so that we were a long time in settling upon one who looked less villainous than the rest. We drove directly to the College to matriculate. The unwonted scenes, the poor sleep, the irregular meals, and the rain, all contributed to our gloom; but the Dean’s letters--we had a friend at court! How forlorn we must have looked, and pitiably young and inexperienced for such an undertaking! The janitor eyed us curiously, and to our request to see the Dean said he was not there then, but that Dr. Caroline Matson was the one to call for--“She sees the new students.”