She seized her bag as she spoke and hurried to the door, prepared to jump on to the platform at the first possible moment, while her companions impatiently followed in her wake. Rhoda had a vague recollection of promising to write regularly to half a dozen girls, and then she was shaking hands with Harold, and laughing in pure joy at seeing the familiar face. "Here I am! Here I am! I have come back at last!" "So I see!" He swept a glance over her, half smiling, half startled. "Awfully glad to see you. Got your luggage in the van, eh? Don't know how on earth we shall get hold of it in this crowd. What an--excuse me!--an appalling set of girls!" "I thought so too, at first, but they look different when you know them. Some of them are sweet, and awfully pretty." "Humph!" said Harold, sceptically. "They are not conspicuous. I don't see a decent-looking girl anywhere, except--who's the girl in the grey hat?" "That's Miss Everett, our house-mistress, the one I'm so fond of--the one who has the invalid brother, you know, to whom mother sent the game!" "Teacher, is she? I thought she was a pupil. Sorry for her, poor little thing, if she has to manage a lot of girls like you. Ha! `R.C.' That's your box at last. I'll get a porter to put it on a four- wheeler. Watch where I go, and keep close behind." He strolled forward, and such was the effect of his imposing appearance and lordly ways, that the porters flew to do his bidding, and piled the luggage on the cab, while others who had been first on the scene were still clamouring for attention. Rhoda glanced proudly at him as they drove away together, but the admiration evidently was on one side, for he frowned, and said critically-- "You--er--look pale! You have lost your colour!" "I've been working hard." "You have grown thinner!" "Games, I suppose. We are always running about." "Er--what has become of your hair?" Rhoda first stared, and then laughed. "Oh, my pigtail! I forgot that you hadn't seen it. I hated it too, at first, but I've grown accustomed to it, and find it very comfortable. It worries me now to have my hair blowing about and tickling my face." "All the same, my dear, you had better untie it before we get home. We will lunch at the Station Hotel, and you can comb it out there. It will give the mater a shock if she sees you looking so changed. She would hardly know you, I think." The tone of disapproval hit hard, and to hide her chagrin Rhoda adopted an air of indifference. "Oh, we don't trouble ourselves about appearances at Hurst. So long as we are comfortable we are satisfied. If a girl worries to dress up, we chaff her unmercifully."