"I do not think so," Dolly said, with evident sincerity. "I have a dreadful feeling whenever you mention her. Good-night, and thank you a thousand times." The next few days were busy ones. Dolly had new studies planned out for the term, and she found to her delight that she and Elizabeth had elected the same courses. The two were congenial, though Elizabeth was as reticent as Dolly was frank and open. Dolly had begun to hope that her unknown room-mate would not arrive at all, but on Tuesday, when she returned from her recitation in history, she found that Miss Sutherland had appeared. In fact there was no doubt that she was there, and had been there for a couple of hours at least. Dolly's dainty pink pillows, banners, and other trifles, had been summarily displaced. She could see no vestige of them. The room was now ornamented in a stiff sort of fashion with brilliant red tidies, afghans, and other things which Dolly considered quite antediluvian. The room had lost all of its dainty personality and prettiness. It certainly looked very unattractive, and it was not much wonder that Dolly drew a deep breath of disgust. The sound reached the ears of the newcomer, and she turned quickly. Dolly's bright eyes took in every detail, the thick hair drawn back so tightly and unbecomingly, the heavy brown dress, just the shade that the girl with such a dark, sallow complexion should never have worn, the cheap jewelry and the clumsy shoes. And she must room with this girl instead of with Elizabeth--it was too bad, it was--and Dolly's whole soul rose up in rebellion. "You are Miss Alden, aren't you? I am Mary Sutherland. I just came, and I have been trying to get my things in order." "I see." Dolly glanced dryly around the room. "Where are my belongings?" "I put them carefully on your bed, they were so pretty that it seemed a shame to have them get soiled; red is more substantial than pink, and of course, the two colors would not go well together--at least, I thought not"--looking a little timidly at Dolly's unresponsive face. "No! I quite agree that pink and red don't harmonize, at least these particular shades," and Dolly passed on to her bedroom and closed the door. She sat down on her bed while angry tears rose in her eyes. She was just beginning to make some pleasant acquaintances among the girls. They liked to come to her pretty room and eat her fudge and drink her tea. There had been several gay evenings. But how could she ever bring them into such a room as this was now? It was worse than a nightmare. The clang of the gong reminded her that she must hurry to the lecture on Roman art. She picked up her note-book and pencil, and rushed down the corridor. "Wait, oh, wait, my bonny maid," and Elizabeth caught her arm. "Why, Dolly, you have been crying!" "Yes, I am an awful goose. But you see my room-mate has come, and--" "I saw her, she hardly strikes me as being your style, but she will be quiet and inoffensive, I imagine."