state them briefly:—

“Kindness to, and thoughtfulness of, others; politeness, even in trifles; courtesy that wins hearts, generosity that makes friends, unselfishness that loves another better than one’s self, integrity that commands confidence, neatness which attracts; tastefulness, a true woman’s strength; good manners, without which all my list of virtues is in vain; cleanliness next to godliness; and, above all, true godliness that makes the noblest type of woman,—a Christian lady.”

Then she offered a short, fervent prayer, and the school filed out quietly to the different class-rooms for their morning recitations.

She spoke to Marion as she passed her, and Marion knew that the dreaded hour of her examination had come. She followed Miss Ashton to a room set apart for such purposes; and, to her surprise, the first words the principal said to her were,—

“Come and sit down by me, Marion, and tell me all about your home!” 24

“About home!” Marion’s heart was very tender this morning, and when she raised her eyes to Miss Ashton, they were full of tears.

“I want to learn more of your mother,”—no notice was taken of the tears. “I had such a nice letter from her about your coming, so nice that, though I hadn’t even a corner to put you in, I could not resist receiving you; and now you are invited to come into the very rooms where I should have been most satisfied to put you. I will tell you about your future room-mates; I think you will be happy there.”

Then she told her of the three cousins, dwelling upon their characters generally, leaving Marion to form her particular opinion as she became acquainted with them.

What the examination was Marion never could recall. Her father was a college graduate. Her mother had been educated at one of our best New England schools, and her own education had been given her with much care by them both.

Miss Ashton found her, with the exception of mathematics, easily prepared to enter her middle class; and the mathematics she had no doubt she could make up.

Probably there was not a happier girl among the whole two hundred than Marion when, with a few kind, personal words, Miss Ashton dismissed her. Her past studies approved, and her future so delightfully planned for. 25

Miss Ashton gave her the number of her room in the third corridor, telling her that the same young lady she had seen on the previous night was waiting to receive her.

When, after some difficulty, she found her way there, the door was opened by Dorothy, who had been watching for her.

“This is our all-together parlor,” she said. “Gladys, you know, and Susan,—this is my cousin, Susan Downer. We are glad to have you with us.”

It was a simple welcome, but it was hearty, and we all know how much that means.

Gladys led her to the window. “Come here first,” she said, “and look out.”

It was the same view she had seen from the guest-room the night before, only now it was soft and tender in the light of a half-clouded autumn sun.

“My father said, when he saw it, it ought to make us better, nobler, and happier to have this to look at. That was asking a great deal, was not it? because, you see, we get used to it. But there’s the sea; you know how the sea looks, never the same twice; because it’s still and full of ripples to-day, you don’t know but the waves will be tumbling over Judith’s Woe to-morrow.”

“I never saw the ocean,” said Marion. “That is one of the great things I have come to the East to see.”

“Never saw the ocean?” repeated Gladys, looking at Marion as curiously as if she had told her she 26 never saw the sun. “Oh, what a treat you have before you! I almost envy you. This is well enough for a landscape, but the seascapes leave you nothing to desire. Now, come to our room. You are to chum with me, and we will be awful good and kind to each other, won’t we?”

“How happy I shall be here!” was Marion’s answer, as she looked around the rooms. “I wish my mother could see it all!”

“I wish she could,” said Dorothy kindly.

The rooms in this academy building were planned in suites,—a parlor, with two bedrooms opening from it. These accommodated four pupils, unless, as was frequently the case, some parents wished their daughter—as did Gladys’s father—to have her sleeping-room to herself. In this case extra payment was made.

Marion found her trunk already in Gladys’s room, and the work of settling down was quickly and pleasantly done, with the help of her three schoolmates. Lucky Marion! She had certainly, so far, begun her Eastern life under the pleasantest auspices.