"Didn't you feel forlorn yourself last year?" retorted Dolly. "Or, if you are a dignified Junior or Senior, I suppose you have forgotten how poor little Freshmen feel, when they are dumped in with a lot of strangers. I am just like a cat in a strange garret." "You are no stranger than I," and the newcomer ensconced herself in the only rocking-chair that the room afforded. "I'm a Freshman like yourself, only I got here last evening. I'm Elizabeth Newby, at your service," and she made a sweeping bow. "I saw you come in and I thought I'd make an early call, but I _did_ suppose you would have your things off by this time." "It was awfully good of you to come," said Dolly gratefully. "I'll get my things off and brush up a bit." She turned and looked suddenly at her new acquaintance. "How does it come that you are not homesick? Everything must be as strange to you as it is to me, but you look jolly and happy." "I am," returned the other emphatically. "You may not know it, but homesickness is a luxury in which only the fortunate can indulge. I'm not troubled with it. Now tell me, can I help you with your trunk? My things are all in order. When you have fixed up your room and had Patrick put your trunk away, you will feel that you are here to stay, and you will begin to be more comfortable in your mind." "If you don't mind helping me then," and Dolly commenced to tug at her straps energetically. "I want to do it. I like to be poking into other people's affairs, it keeps one from thinking." "Then you are homesick, after all?" and Dolly glanced up with twinkling eyes. "No, I am not. I am only homesick because I am _not_ homesick, and that is Greek or worse to you." Dolly gave her companion a keen look, but said no more. There was evidently something in the background, and Dolly surmised that Elizabeth's home-life, for some reason or other, was not as happy as it should be. "What lovely, dainty things you have for your sitting-room!" and Elizabeth held up an armful of pretty articles with honest admiration. "My room looks as prim as an old maid's. I never thought of these little accessories." "Those are what I had in my room at home, and Mother thought that I had better bring them. They _will_ make these rooms look quite natural." "They just will. I wish we were room-mates, for I haven't an earthly thing to trim up with, and neither has my room-mate." "Who is your room-mate? Do you know her? Is she nice?" "I don't know her. Her name is Margaret Ainsworth. She's a Sophomore, and between ourselves I don't believe that we shall have much to do with each other." "Then it was your room-mate who brought me here. I thought that she was a Junior at least." "Only a Sophomore, my dear, and a conditioned one at that, though to hear her talk you would suppose that she was taking a post-graduate course." "Isn't it funny that she hasn't any little decorations for your sitting-room, as she is an old student?"