By this time Jean's tears had dried and she had regained her usual composure and quite firmly replied, "Oh, Miss Allison, I'm so glad to know you; I was just beginning to get homesick, but you've saved my life. I'm to live in Merton, 45, with Elizabeth Frances Fairfax. I got my assignment just the day before we started." "Merton; why, that's my house. Isn't it grand? 'Forty-five' is fourth floor and mine is 27, second floor. As for Elizabeth Frances Fairfax, she's probably another freshman from Massachusetts; name sounds like one of those good old New England families. Massachusetts girls are all right in spite of their strict old Puritan ancestors. I'm from Cherokee, Iowa, but I haven't been home all summer. Really I haven't any home to go to, for my father is interested in mines and is down in Mexico most of the time. I stay with my aunt when I'm in Cherokee, but this summer I've been visiting some of the college girls in New York State and ended up at Littleton Center. And you've come all the way from Los Angeles? I thought I'd come some distance, but it's nothing in comparison with your trip. Most of the girls at college are Easterners, but I'm sure you'll like them after you get used to their ways. "What studies are you going to take? Can I help you with your program? Come right into 27 as soon as we land and I'll fix things up for you. Speaking of Massachusetts girls, you'll fall in love with my room-mate, Natalie Lawton, just the minute you see her. She's from Boston; lived there all her short life, not fifteen minutes' walk from the Boston Public Library and Copley Square. Excuse me, of course you don't know anything about Boston yet, but you will before you've been a month at Ashton. Miss Emerson, she's college president, you know, thinks there's no place on the whole earth quite like Boston, and it's her especial delight to impress upon freshmen the advantages of being so near to this wonderful city. The first time you hear her say, 'Now, girls, remember the great advantages offered to you by being in such close proximity to Boston,' you will think it rather significant, but by the time you've heard it 576 times it will begin to grow a little monotonous. "Why, Miss Cabot, we're actually passing through Hyde Park, and we'll be in the South Station in a few minutes. Hasn't the time gone quickly? How many trunks have you and where are your checks? Let's be getting our things together. I left my luggage up in the other end of the car, so I'll go up and collect it and be back in a minute." "Oh, thank you, Miss Allison, but my cousin, Miss Anna Maitlandt, has promised to meet me at the train and I am sure she will help me with my trunks."