"I'd have asked you to go along with me," apologized Lillian, scrambling into bed without any conventional delay, "but I thought you wouldn't care for such things." "I hope I never shall," said the new girl, solemnly, and turned her face to the wall. The following morning while Pocahontas arranged her share of the bureau, the Sophomore draped a tennis net on their wall and fixed in its meshes the trophies of her first year. She was putting a photograph in place when Hannah spoke: "Who is that, Miss Arnold?" "That's Jack Smith," answered Lillian; "stunning, isn't he?" "He's very interesting, I think. He was on the train yesterday. There were ever so many boys to meet him." "He's a Beta Rho,--belongs to that fraternity, you know. They have a swell house here. I know most of them very well,--been over there to dinner several times." "What class is he in?" "Mine,--Sophomore. He's a splendid athlete,--football and pole-vaulting,--and he sings in the Glee Club. He was the only Freshman to make the team last year,--he's really a perfect hero." "I knew he was somebody by the way they acted down at the station. I think he has a good face." The new girl had come over from the bureau and was looking up at the picture in the net. "Everybody thinks he is the handsomest man in college. You wait till you see him in his red sweater. Don't say anything, Hannah, but I'm going to have Jack Smith for my very own this year; you see if I don't manage it," and Lillian, laughing, blew a light kiss to the photograph. Decidedly Pocahontas disapproved of her room-mate. Later, when she found that a half-dozen girls who had dropped in after dinner were there for the evening, she went out into a music-room to look at her new text-books. Routed from here by more butterflies, with "beaux," she did her reading on a bench in the hallway. Another day and she was rooming with a Junior who was a hard student. Her departure caused Miss Arnold sincere regret. A girl she knew had roomed with a Freshman the year before and the child adored her and did the mending of both. Lillian hated to sew. Pocahontas had been at college a week and was already learning that it is not necessary to read all your references when her room-mate, coming in from the library one evening, mentioned that there was a rush going on over at the tank. "A rush?" asked Hannah, "what is that?" "A relic of barbarism; they ought to have put a stop to it long ago, Professor Grind says." "Yes," said the Freshman, "but what do they do?" "Oh, get out and fight somehow,--I don't know just how,--something about tying up. Only another way of wasting time, Hannah," and the Junior plunged back into her Livy.