ecided that of two evils she should prefer
college, because there seemed to be more freedom and variety about it.
Being of a philosophical turn of mind, she was now determined to enjoy
herself, if possible. She pinned her faith to a remark that her favorite
among all Nan's friends had made to her that summer. "Oh, you'll like
college, Betty," she had said. "Not just as Nan or I did, of course.
Every girl has her own reasons for liking college--but every nice girl
likes it."

Betty decided that she had already found two of her reasons: the pretty
Miss King and Mrs. Chapin's piazza, which was exceedingly attractive for
a boarding-house. A girl was lounging in a hammock behind the vines, and
another in a big piazza chair was reading aloud to her. "They must be
old girls," thought Betty, "to seem so much at home." Then she
remembered that Mrs. Chapin had said hers would probably be an "all
freshman house," and decided that they were friends from the same town.

Mrs. Chapin presently appeared, to show Betty to her room and explain
that her roommate would not arrive till the next morning. Betty dressed
and then sat down to study for her French examination, which came next
day; but before she had finished deciding which couch she preferred or
where they could possibly put two desks and a tea-table, the bell rang
for dinner.

This bid fair to be a silent and dismal meal. All the girls had come
except Betty's roommate, and most of them, being freshmen, were in the
depths of examinations and homesickness. But there was one shining
exception, a very lively sophomore, who had waited till the last moment
hoping to get an assignment on the campus, and then had come to Mrs.
Chapin's in the place of a freshman who had failed in her examinations.

"She had six, poor thing!" explained the sophomore to Betty, who sat
beside her. "And just think! She'd had a riding horse and a mahogany
desk with a secret drawer sent on from home. Wish I could inherit them
along with her room. Now, my name is Mary Brooks. Tell me yours, and
I'll ask the girl on the other side and introduce you; and that will
start the ball rolling."

These energetic measures succeeded much better than Mrs. Chapin's
somewhat perfunctory remarks about the dry weather, and the whole table
was soon talking busily. The two piazza girls proved to be sisters, Mary
and Adelaide Rich, from Haddam, Connecticut. Betty decided that they
were rather stupid and too inclined to stick