Boarding school students -- Juvenile fiction; Boarding schools -- Juvenile fiction; Teenage girls -- Fiction
As playing the part of hostess came naturally to Cathalina, Hilary, for
of course it was the Hilary, received a much better impression of her
new roommate than if she had arrived first to see Cathalina in the
throes of homesickness. “Pretty and awfully sweet,” was Hilary’s mental
comment. Cathalina, too, was delighted with the bright, companionable
girl who, full of interest and chatting away, went gaily to their little
suite.
Hilary went first to the windows to take a look at the lake, then threw
hat and jacket on the bed and dropped herself into the one rocking
chair. Cathalina was already seated on the foot of her own bed,
beginning to sort a few leftovers.
“Isn’t this the most lovely place? I’ve been crazy to come ever since I
got over the first shock of giving up my high-school class. I can
scarcely believe that I’m actually here for two years.”
“O, won’t you go home?” asked Cathalina, who often took things
literally.
“Yes, of course, vacations; but I can be here two whole years. And then
if nothing happens, I’m going to college.” Hilary said this as if there
were nothing more in life to be desired.
Cathalina was amused, for her ambitions, so far, had not included
completing any course here, to say nothing of a four years’ college
course.
“Rap-rap” at their sitting room door. Both girls started to answer the
knock. There stood an attractive girl in a pink kimono. Two heavy braids
of blonde hair, tied together with a pink ribbon, hung straight from a
shapely head. Pretty white teeth gleamed when she gave them a happy
smile and held out a pan of fudge. “Come over to fifty-one,” she said,
as each selected a piece of hot candy. “We heard that fifty-two had some
new girls. Come over and be social, though you mustn’t mind how we
look.”
Hilary and Cathalina did not hesitate, but followed the pink kimono and
the pan of fudge into a room that looked like the first stages of a
rummage sale. Pennants, books, pictures, clothing, boxes, curtains,
bedding, and all sorts of articles strewed tables, chairs and floor. And
there on the rug, in the middle of the floor, for want of a better seat,
were three more girls in gay kimonos. Cathalina observed that these
girls had done what her mother had warned her not to do. They had taken
everything out of trunks in a hurry, to pile it all here, there and
everywhere until convenient to sort and find a place for the articles of
this remarkable collection. Nobody was worrying about it, that was
evident.
“Can you really make fudge here?” Hilary was asking as they entered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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