At this moment the dressing-gong for dinner sounded, and the little group moved slowly toward the house. In the entrance hall numbers of girls who had recently arrived were standing about; all had a nod, or a smile, or a kiss for Maggie Oliphant. “How do you do, Miss Oliphant? Come and see me to-night in my room, won’t you, dear?” issued from many throats. Maggie promised in her good-natured, affectionate, wholesale way. Nancy Banister was also greeted by several friends. She, too, was gay and bright, but quieter than Maggie. Her face was more reliable in its expression, but not nearly so beautiful. “If you accept all these invitations, Maggie,” she said as the two girls walked down the corridor which led to their rooms, “you know you will have to sit up until morning. Why will you say ‘yes’ to every one? You know it only causes disappointment and jealousy.” Maggie laughed. “My dear, good creature, don’t worry your righteous soul,” she answered. “I’ll call on all the girls I can, and the others must grin and bear it. Now we have barely time to change our dresses for dinner. Surely, though, Nance, there’s a light under Annabel Lee’s door. Who have they dared to put into her room? It must be one of those wretched freshers. I don’t think I can bear it. I shall have to go away into another corridor.” “Maggie, dear— you are far too sensitive. Could the college afford to keep a room empty because poor, dear Annie Lee occupied it?” “They could, they ought,” burst from Maggie. She stamped her foot with anger. “That room is a shrine to me. It will always be a shrine. I shall hate the person who lives in it.” Tears filled her bright brown eyes. Her arched, proud lips trembled. She opened her door, and going into her room, shut it with a bang, almost in Nancy Banister’s face. Nancy stood still for a moment. A quick sigh came from her lips. “Maggie is the dearest girl in the college,” she said to herself; “the dearest, the sweetest, the prettiest, yet also the most tantalizing, the most provoking, the most inconsequent. It is the greatest wonder she has kept so long out of some serious scrape. She will never leave here without doing something outrageous, and yet there isn’t a girl in the place to be named with her. I wish—” here Nancy sighed again and put her hand to her brow as if to chase away some perplexity. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she went up to the door of the room next to Maggie’s and knocked. There was a moment’s silence, then a constrained voice said: “Come in.” Nancy entered at once.