“Really, The Hermitage isn’t a very appropriate name for a house full of girls,” Mary said, as they drew nearer the little cottage; “but one of the older graduates gave the money for it and asked the privilege of naming it herself. So she selected that name on account of the location, forgetting that girls aren’t a bit like hermits.” Virginia thought the name and location alike lovely; and as they passed through the fir trees and reached the porch which surrounded the house, her satisfaction was complete. Inside, The Hermitage was quite as attractive as its brown-shingled exterior. On the first floor were the living-room, with a wide stone fire-place and book-lined walls, the sunny, homelike dining-room, and the rooms of the two teachers. Up-stairs were the four rooms of the girls, each large and sunny, and opening upon a porch, and away up on the third floor was one large room, which was this year to be occupied by the mysterious Katrina Van Rensaelar. All was hurry and bustle on the second floor of The Hermitage as Mary and Virginia went up the stairs. Five girls were frantically and unsystematically unpacking—pausing every other minute to go the rounds for the sake of exhibiting some new possession acquired during the summer. Two of the girls Virginia had not seen, and her new room-mate promptly introduced them. “These are our next door neighbors, Virginia,” she said, “Imogene Meredith and Vivian Winters. And this is Virginia Hunter from the Big Horn Mountains in Wyoming.” “Indeed?” remarked the one called Imogene, raising her eyebrows and extending a rather languid hand. “Quite off the map, n’est-ce pas?” and she laughed. She was tall with dark, extremely-dressed hair, and eyes that did not meet your own. Her dress was of the latest fashion, and she wore several pieces of expensive jewelry. Virginia was embarrassed by her easy, uninterested manner, and her strange laugh. Vivian Winters she liked better. Vivian was short with a sweet, childish face, and wistful blue eyes. She, too, was dressed far too lavishly for school, Virginia felt, but she liked her all the same, and did not feel at all embarrassed in replying to her pleasant little welcome. As she looked at them, she recalled the conversation she had heard between Priscilla and Dorothy in the train, and she thought she understood Priscilla’s feeling toward Imogene. But, perhaps, they were both mistaken, and she wouldn’t begin by being prejudiced. Just then Dorothy called Imogene to her room at the other end of the hall, and Priscilla took Virginia to their own room. “There’s a huge box here for you,” she said, as they went down the hall. “It nearly fills the room.” “Oh, it’s my saddle here already!” cried Virginia. “It is a huge box, isn’t it?”