class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[Pg 18]"/> to Briarwood in September, "I wish Aunt Justina could know how happy she has made me."

"Perhaps she does; and if so, I am sure it would please her to know that you are making a wise and good use of her legacy; all the more because these weeks of trial and disappointment have taught you the value of the school years; and the discipline of patience will have made you stronger and better able to use them wisely."

"Oh, I will; and I hope Aunt Justina knows," breathed Alison, dimming the shining surface of her wonderful lamp with a few happy tears.

Chapter II

BRIARWOOD COLLEGE

Briarwood College was built on a terraced hillside, the buildings rising one above the other, the lowest, or Main Building, on a level with the street that ran at right angles with the hillside, while the topmost, known as "Hillview," crowned the summit and commanded a view of near and distant hills, blue, purple and opal-tinted, melting into the sky.

The Main Building had originally been a handsome old dwelling house, whose spacious rooms were now used as parlors, library, offices and teachers' rooms. There were wide, beautiful porches in front and back, and massive stone steps, ending in great stone urns overflowing with bright flowers at the foot of each flight. These steps led down into wide shady gardens, where the girls walked up and down with arms intertwined, or sat and studied and talked on rustic seats under the trees on the shady lawns.

The other buildings, Briarley Hall, Elmtree Hall and Hillview, were devoted to class rooms and dormitories, each hall being presided over by a teacher.

In these pleasant courts of learning Alison Fair arrived on a golden September afternoon, and was warmly welcomed by Miss Harland, the Principal.

"We are so glad to have you back, dear," Miss Harland said, kissing the girl affectionately. "I was rather afraid from what you wrote some time ago, that you might not return to us this year."

"Oh, so was I, Miss Harland. I was dreadfully afraid of it. I was so disappointed, I hardly realize yet that it is all right, and I am really here. And may I have my same old room, and Joan for roommate?"

"The same room, dear, but I am so sorry about Joan. You see, she has not come yet, and there was no one to claim that room, so I had to put a new girl in with you. We have a very large school this year, and the dormitories are overflowing. I really had no other place for her. You may be able to change later, if you don't find her congenial. You won't mind?"

Alison did mind; but after the first pang of disappointment, she spoke cheerfully. "It's all right, Miss Harland. I'm so thankful to be here at all, I shan't grumble at anything. Joan is coming, isn't she?" in sudden alarm.

"Oh, yes, I expect her this evening. Her father is driving her through the country. Run up, then, and get acquainted with your new roommate. Marcia West, is her name. She looked homesick."

Homesick at Briarwood! Alison marvelled as she ran lightly up the familiar staircase and along the corridor to the end room, which had been hers and Joan Wentworth's last year. She was so happy to find herself here again; but then she was not a new girl, and she knew there were many freshmen lying on their beds at this moment and crying their eyes out for homesickness. Well, it would not last long, one soon grew accustomed to the pleasant routine of school days.

She reached her door and tapped lightly. It was opened, after an instant's delay, and the "new girl" stood there in silence, still holding the door and looking at her with an expression which, if not exactly forbidding, was certainly not encouraging. She was about Alison's own age, rather tall and slight, with dark, sombre eyes and dark heavy hair worn low on her forehead. The heavy hair and the unsmiling eyes gave her face a lowering look that was not attractive at first sight. She merely stood there without speaking, until Alison said pleasantly,

"Good evening. I am Alison Fair, and you are my new roommate. Miss Harland told me you were here. I'm sorry to be late. I hope you like our room."

"Pretty, though it's not very large for two," said the girl nonchalantly. "I came in this morning. I've been unpacking."

It was evident, as Alison entered and looked about her. Marcia had unpacked her trunk, which stood open in the hall beside their door, and had strewed her belongings about as freely as though she had expected to occupy the room alone.

It was a fairly good-sized room, containing two single beds, and a dresser, chair and small table for each girl. A roomy closet was well supplied with hangers and shoe-racks. A glance showed Alison that Marcia had placed her dresser and table close to the window and strewn them with photographs and toilet articles in lavish profusion. Also, that she had taken the best chair.

"I changed things a little. You don't mind, do you?" she asked, watching Alison.

"Oh, no, it's your room as well as mine," Alison answered good-humoredly, and proceeded to open her own trunk, which had been brought up and placed in the hall, according to custom, and to arrange her part of the room. Marcia had encroached on her side of the closet, she noticed, but she said nothing, only hanging up a few dresses and leaving the rest in her trunk. She placed a few favorite books between a pair of bronze bookends, her father's parting gift; laid her Bible beside them, and her pretty new portfolio her mother had given her; and finally set her cherished lamp on the dresser. She had scarcely finished, and stood surveying the effect, when there was a rush of little feet in the corridor, the door was flung open, and a small, rosy-faced curly-haired girl rushed in to fling herself into Alison's arms.

"Oh, Alison, you darling thing! I'm so thrilled to be back, and in our same old room, too."

Chapter III

SOME OF THE GIRLS

"Lovely to be back," said Alison, warmly kissing the pretty childish face," but you are too late for us to be roommates, Jo. I have another roommate, a new girl, Marcia West. Marcia, this is Joan Wentworth, who roomed with me last year."

Joan shook back her light fluffy hair, looking rather taken aback for an instant, as Marcia emerged from the closet, where she had been invisible, arranging a rack of shoes. "How do you do?" Marcia said briefly. "I didn't know I was taking your room. Miss Harland put me in here. She said there wasn't any other room, or I'd go somewhere else. I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's all right," Joan answered, recovering her equanimity quickly. "I'll go and see if Kathy can take me in, for the night, anyway. She's just across the hall, and she's by herself. I'll look her up."

She was gone, leaving Alison and Marcia to shake down together as best they could. Conversation languished. Alison tried to talk about her school work. It developed that they would be in the same classes; but Marcia seemed to have no enthusiasms. She had come to school because she was made to, and she looked forward to nothing but getting through.

Finally she said she was tired and lay down on her bed; and seeing presently that she had fallen asleep, Alison slipped out of the room across the hall to the room opposite, which was Katherine Bertram's. Katherine was better off financially than most of the girls. Her