“I’m just limp!” Cathalina remarked as at nine o’clock she sat braiding her locks for the night and wishing in the depths of her tired little soul for Etta to come and get her ready for bed. “That poor little Avalon Moore stuck to me as if I were her last friend. I loved to help her, but I knew so little myself. You were a dear, Hilary, to take hold and find her room and roommate for her.” “O, I’m used to towing people around,” said Hilary, smiling broadly. “You remember that I’m a minister’s daughter! We’ll get up early tomorrow, won’t we? and write home. I’m too tired now, aren’t you? Hasn’t it been a day of it?” “Well, I think so! It seems a week since Papa left this morning. Can you remember the name of all the girls we’ve met?” “Mercy, no!” cried Hilary. “At this minute I can’t even remember the name of the Pink Kimono next door!” “That is because we called her that first, I suppose; Lilian,—Lilian,—” “North,” announced Hilary in triumph. “But the lot of ’em we met after dinner!” “This is only the first day, remember.” “But I can’t help feeling the way we do when we go to a new place, that we must remember everybody.” “Why?” “O, people feel hurt, you know—that’s one of our jobs, to get acquainted.” “Our minister’s been in our church twenty-five years and almost belongs to our family, we think. He married Mamma and Papa and baptized us children, so we think everything of him and his wife, too.” “Twenty-five years! We usually stay four or five years. I like to move around, but Mother doesn’t. If she has a nice parsonage she would certainly like the twenty-five year plan!” Cathalina yawned, shook off her slippers and hopped into bed. “I just set my new alarm clock for five o’clock, Cathalina; are you game?” “I am,” said Cathalina firmly, though never in her life had she risen at the call of an alarm clock. A faint sound of splashing waves on the lake shore came through the open windows to the drowsy girls; while a soft breeze stirred the straying locks about Cathalina’s contented face and brought happy dreams to Hilary. CHAPTER VII CATHALINA’S FIRST RECITATION A terrible sound wakened Cathalina and she sprang out of bed. “Brr-rr-rr-ting-a-ling-a-ting-ting-ting!” She found herself shaking behind her bed and realized that the alarm clock, not far from Hilary’s head, was the source of the racket. “For pity’s sake!—Hilary!” cried Cathalina. Hilary turned and threw her arms out over the spread. “Hilary! Wake up! I don’t know how to stop the old thing!” One eye opened. Hilary slowly sat up and looked in dazed fashion at Cathalina who was back in bed, laughing with her fingers in her ears. “Please stop it, Hilary.” “It’s the intermittent kind,” said Hilary sleepily, and as if to prove her words the noise stopped for a moment, only to resume operations with renewed vigor. Hilary reached for the clock and turned off the alarm. “And you never even wakened!”