Senior, was one of the reception-committee.
Elizabeth was but half-way through with her dressing when Mary had
finished.

"There, Elizabeth, I'm done. Look me over and see if my waist is together
all right."

Elizabeth was standing before the mirror, pins between her lips, trying to
reduce a refractory bow to submission. She turned to look at her roommate.
"Sweet--your dress is beautiful."

"Thank you," was the response with a characteristic toss of her head.
"With those pins in your mouth you talk like a dialect story. I'm off now.
Dr. Morgan wishes the committee to meet in her parlor. I suppose she wants
to get our mouths into the 'papa, potatoes, prunes and prisms' shape
before we meet the guests. I'm sorry I can't go down with you, Elizabeth.
A first reception is so trying. Nancy won't go down until late. Suppose I
ask her to wait for you?"

"That may put her to trouble. I thought of asking Miss O'Day to go with
me. She's just across the hall, and has no one special to go with her
since she rooms alone."

Miss Wilson hesitated a moment, standing in the middle of the doorway. She
looked quite serious at the mention of Miss O'Day.

"Miss O'Day might--not like to be bothered. Besides, you do not know her
very well. I'll send Nancy."

With that she disappeared.

As the gaslight in the bedroom was not satisfactory Elizabeth went into
the sitting-room or study, as the students were accustomed to call it, to
finish her dressing. Nancy came to the door just as Elizabeth put on the
last touches.

"We'll be late," she exclaimed. "I think it's fun to go early and meet all
the strangers. Judge Wilson and his friends will be here if the train was
on time at Ridgway."

Elizabeth caught up her fan and handkerchief and started forth. Her
attention was claimed by the curious fan Nancy carried.

"It is odd, isn't it?" exclaimed Nancy, unfurling it. "It is hand-carved.
You know the Swedes are famous for that kind of work. This is quite old.
My grandfather made it for my grandmother when they were sweethearts over
in Sweden."

Elizabeth looked her surprise at this statement. Her companion noticed her
expression.

"You knew, of course, that I was of Swedish birth!"

"No, I did not. I knew that you made your home with Miss Wilson's family.
I took it for granted that you must be a relative."

"Not the least bit," was the response, given without a show of
embarrassment. "I'm merely a dependent. My father was a Swedish