Then they crossed a rustic bridge over a little brook, after which the pines gave way to maples and oaks, on either side of which were open fields and meadows. They snow-shoed here, they told her; and in the spring the ground was fairly blue with violets. Now the roadsides, as well as the land near the brook, were yellow with goldenrod and purple with asters, her mother’s flowers. The road commenced to be more hilly above the meadow, and as the horses walked slowly along, Virginia noticed with interest the shrubs and trees which grew in tangled masses on either side. She knew the sumac, now in its autumn scarlet, and the birches; but there were many which she had never seen, and she missed the service-berry and the buck-brush, which bordered the Wyoming roads, the cottonwoods and her own dear quaking-asps, which always seemed so merry and friendly in the fall. What a lovely place for a school, she kept thinking to herself, as they climbed the hill, and, suddenly leaving the wood road behind, came out upon an open campus, dotted here and there with fine old elms and maples. “And this is St. Helen’s,” the girls told her, as they followed the elm-shaded driveway, while her delighted eyes wandered across the lawns to the gray stone buildings, upon which the ivy was already turning red. “It’s lovely,” she said softly, “just as lovely as mother used to tell me. You see, years ago my mother came here to school, too.” Perhaps the softness of her voice told the girls more than she herself had done, for they were silent for a moment. Then Mary said, “Miss King wanted me to bring Virginia over to the office as soon as she came, so you girls can go on to The Hermitage. You might as well leave your bag in the carriage, Virginia. They’ll put it in your room.” Miss King’s office was in the largest of the gray stone buildings, which, Mary told Virginia, held the gymnasium, the big assembly hall, some recitation rooms, and the offices of the principal and other important personages. “You’ll love Miss King,” Mary reassured her, perhaps guessing that Virginia felt a little shy. “You see, she doesn’t teach any more, and she leaves most of the care of the girls to the younger teachers; but she always conducts chapel, and arranges with each girl separately about her studies. It’s wonderful how she knows every girl in St. Helen’s, and she’s interested in every little thing that concerns us. We just love her!” They went up the steps, and into a large, open hall, at the end of which a fire blazed in a big stone fire-place. “We don’t really need a fire now,” Mary explained, “but Miss King says it seems more homelike and cheerful when the girls come in.” From the hall many doors led to different rooms, and through two big central ones they passed into a large office. A young woman at the desk rose to greet them. “You’re to take the young lady to Miss King’s private office, Miss Williams,” she said.