"Sh-h!" warned Genevieve. "Tilly, isn't it awful? Only think of our Quentina's living here!" At that moment the door of the little house opened, and Mr. Jones appeared. From around his feet there seemed literally to tumble out upon the steps several boys of "assorted sizes," as Tilly expressed it afterward. Then the girls saw her in the doorway--Quentina. She was slender, not very tall, but very pretty, with large, dark eyes, and fine yellow hair that fluffed and curled all about her forehead and ears and neck. "O Happy Hexagons, Happy Hexagons, welcome, welcome, Happy Hexagons!" breathed the girl in the doorway ecstatically, clasping her hands. "Sounds almost like our Texas yell," giggled Tilly, under her breath. Genevieve was the first to reach the ground. "Quentina--I know you're Quentina; and I'm Genevieve Hartley," she cried, before Mr. Jones had a chance to speak. "Yes, this is Quentina," he said then, cordially shaking Genevieve's hand. "And now I'll let you present her to your young friends, please, because you can do it so much better than I." They were all out now, on the ground, hanging back a little diffidently. It was this, perhaps, that made Cordelia think that something ought to be said or done. She came hurriedly forward as she caught Genevieve's eye and heard her own name called. "Yes, I'm Cordelia, and I'm so glad to see you," she stammered; "and I'm so glad you're not fat and homely, too--er--that is," she corrected feverishly, "I mean--we didn't any of us get you right, you know." "Get me--right?" Quentina opened her dark eyes to their fullest extent. Cordelia blushed, and tried to back away. With her eyes she implored Tilly or Elsie to take her place. It was Genevieve who came to the rescue. "We'll have to own up, Quentina," she laughed. "On the way here we were trying to picture how you look; and of course we each had to guess a different thing, so we got all kinds of combinations." "Yes, but we didn't get yours," chuckled Tilly, coming easily forward, with outstretched hand. "Indeed we didn't," echoed Elsie, admiringly. "Why, of course we couldn't," stammered Cordelia, still red of face. "We never, never _could_ think of anything so pretty as you really are!" Quentina laughed now, and raised hurried hands to hide the pretty red that had flown to her cheeks. "Oh, you funny, funny Happy Hexagons!" she cried, in her sweet, Southern drawl. Naturally there could be nothing stiff about the introductions, after that, and they were dispatched in short order, even to Mr. Jones's pulling the boys into line, and announcing: "This is Paul, with the solemn face. And this grinning little chap is Edward--Ned, for short; and these are the twins, Bob and Rob." "Are they both 'Robert'?" questioned Tilly, interestedly. Mr. Jones smiled. "Oh, no. Bob is Bolton, and Rob is Robert. The 'Rob and Bob' is Quentina's idea--she likes the sound of it."