w hair, which curled around
her face. She carried a trim little hand-bag and a well-filled bag of
golf-clubs.

"Can I help you in any way?" asked Betty, holding out a hand for the
golf-bag.

The pretty freshman turned a puzzled face toward her, and surrendered
the bag. "I don't know," she said doubtfully. "I'm to be a freshman at
Harding. Father telegraphed the registrar to meet me. Could you point
her out, please?"

"I knew it," laughed Betty, gleefully. Then she turned to the girl. "The
registrar is up at the college answering fifty questions a minute, and
I'm here to meet you. Give me your checks, and we'll find an expressman.
Oh, yes, and where do you board?"

The pretty freshman answered her questions with an air of pleased
bewilderment, and later, on the way up the hill, asked questions of her
own, laughed shamefacedly over her misunderstanding about the registrar,
was comforted when Betty had explained that it was not an original
mistake, and invited her new friend to come and see her with that
particular sort of eager shyness that is the greatest compliment one
girl can pay to another.

"Dear old Dorothy," thought Betty, when she had deposited the freshman,
considerably enlightened about college etiquette, at one of the
pleasantest of the off-campus houses, and was speeding to the Belden
for tea. "What a little goose she must have thought me! And what a dear
she was! I wonder if this freshman will ever really care about me that
way. I do mean to try to make her. Oh, what a lot of things seniors have
to think about!"

But the only thing to think about that evening was the arrival of the
eight-fifteen train, which would bring Eleanor, the B's, Nita Reese,
Katherine Kittredge, Roberta Lewis, and Madeline Ayres, together with
two-thirds of the rest of the senior class back to Harding. It was such
fun to saunter down to the station in the warm twilight, to wait,
relieved of all responsibilities concerning cabs, expressmen, and
belated trunks, while the crowded train pulled in, and then to dash
frantically about from one dear friend to another, stopping to shake
hands with a sophomore here, and there to greet a junior, but being
gladdest, of course, to welcome back the members of "the finest class."
Betty and Rachel had arranged not to serve on the reception committee
for freshmen that evening, and it was not long before the reunited
"Merry Hearts" escaped from the pandemonium at the station to
reassemble on