“Isn’t it wonderful to have a girl way from Wyoming?” she said. “And isn’t it lovely that I know all about her? Her best friend is my brother’s best friend, too. This is Virginia Hunter, and these are Priscilla Winthrop and Dorothy Richards. Why, I almost forgot! You and Priscilla are room-mates. Miss King just told me.” So the longed-for joy was to become a reality! Virginia was radiant. She wondered if Priscilla were really glad. The handshake with which she greeted her was surely cordial. Mary and Dorothy walked on ahead toward the waiting carriage, and left the new room-mates to follow. “It’s ever so interesting to room with a girl way from Wyoming,” Priscilla said sweetly. “You’ll have to tell me all about it. I don’t know a thing!” “I will,” said Virginia. Then she laughed. “And I really don’t chew gum, or borrow things. And what is a fish-net?” Priscilla laughed, too. “Oh, did you hear those silly things I said? Why, a fish-net is a hideous thing to put pictures in. I loathe them!” “Besides, I have two Navajo rugs,” Virginia continued. “I hope I wasn’t rude! I couldn’t help hearing, really, and I was so interested.” “You weren’t rude at all, and I’m wild over Navajos. Dorothy will be plain peeved, because we have two in our room.” Virginia gathered from the tone that “plain peeved” must mean something akin to jealous. But she was so happy that she forgot all about Navajos. “I’m so glad I’m going to room with you,” she couldn’t help saying. “I knew I’d like you the moment you got on the train, and I like you better every minute!” Priscilla in her turn was embarrassed. She was not used to such frankness of speech, especially on first acquaintance. But very likely the manner of speaking in Wyoming, just as Virginia’s speech, so full of _r’s_ was different from her own. And she was ready to go half-way at least. “Why,” she stammered, “I—I’m—sure I’m glad, and I—I—know I’ll like you, too.” Which was quite an admission for a member of the conservative Winthrop family to make to a stranger! CHAPTER VI ST. HELEN’S AND THE HERMITAGE St. Helen’s lay a mile west of the station, and half a mile from the village itself, through whose quiet, elm-shaded streets they were soon driving in the big, open carriage. The girls pointed out to Virginia the places of especial interest—the little white church which they attended on Sundays; Mrs. Brown’s cottage, where pumpkin pies and “heavenly chocolate cake” might be purchased, if not too frequently; and, chief of attractions, the “Forget-me-not,” whose sundaes, once eaten, were never forgotten. At the little post-office, another girl joined them, and was in turn embraced quite as rapturously by Priscilla and Dorothy as Mary had been. She was introduced to Virginia as Anne Hill, Mary’s roommate, and another Senior. “The two sharks and faculty pets of St. Helen’s,” observed Dorothy, supplementing the introduction, and including Mary and Anne with a wave of her pretty hand,