As I told my roommate (Hilary Lancaster), last night, it seems a week since Father said goodbye yesterday morning. But I have not spent the time in tears as I know he was afraid I would. Tell him that his military salute had the effect. And really from the first I’ve been too busy to cry or be very homesick. I unpacked and then the girls kept coming from the trains, and Miss Randolph handed over to me such a nice roommate, and there were so many things to do and see that nobody could help getting interested. Hilary is the daughter of a minister and so smart, can do anything, I guess. I believe Miss Randolph did take pains to select my roommate. She said “Hilary is a fine girl”. I am sure she had never met her before, so how could she tell? We have met ever so many girls of all sorts. Wait till I have time to write you a decent letter and tell about the Pink Kimono and the fudge, the fat little girl that I met by the lake and the homesick one that thought I was an “old girl” and wept on my shoulders. She little knew how much I felt like joining with those that weep! I am still scared at the thought of reciting with the rest tomorrow, but I’ll hope for the best, as Ann Maria says when she hasn’t looked at her lesson! Don’t worry about me a moment. I remember those last dear days at home (here Cathalina had to stop and swallow a lump in her throat), and how you all tried to get me used to the idea of coming away. I’ll do my best to grow strong and keep busy, and I think now that it’s going to be “great fun”, as Phil says. I feel better and sort of stirred up already. There is the gong for breakfast and I’m actually hungry. We got up early and looked up our school things. Love to you all. Your very loving daughter, Cathalina. When Cathalina’s letter was received it was eagerly opened. With what relief did Mr. and Mrs. Van Buskirk catch the new note in Cathalina’s message. Sylvia, to whom the house had been a lonely place without her little girl, finally dissolved into tears and sobbed a little on Philip’s shoulder; while he, who hated tears as men do, nevertheless comforted her and let her have it out. The busy pastor of Glenwood, with his wife, quite as eagerly read the brief letter from their daughter, the first of their flock to leave home for any length of time. And at family prayers that night a strong petition went up for the “dear child among strangers and the sweet girl with her” ... “Keep them, O Lord, and give Thy angels charge over them, and may Thy truth be their shield and buckler!”