ossessed her. There was a crowd
there! They would all be juniors and seniors, and she the only freshman
among them. How could she go in? Oh! she almost wished she was up in the
other corridor with the younger girls!

But at this moment the door opened, and Bertha's kind face looked out.

"Here you are, Peggy!" she cried, cordially. "Come along; there's plenty
of room, for I've saved a place for you. Come!"

For a moment Peggy hung back, and knew how Lobelia Parkins felt; then
she made an effort, and followed Bertha into the room.

The Owl's Nest was a corner room, with windows on two sides. It seemed
to be furnished chiefly with books. There were the two brass beds, of
course, the twin bureaus, the desks, and table. All of these, except the
beds, were covered with books; bookshelves took up most of the wall
space, though there were two or three good pictures, among them a great
photograph of the sea, that almost dashed the spray in one's face, so
perfect was it. It was at a later visit that Peggy observed the books;
now, she was conscious of nothing save the girls. The room was certainly
full of them. There were three on each bed, curled up in every variety
of picturesque and comfortable attitude; two sat on one of the bureaus,
having pushed books and toilet articles up into a toppling and highly
perilous mountain behind them; four more crouched somehow on the rather
narrow window-seats. The rest were on the floor, except two early birds,
who had come in time to get the two chairs. The floor was made
comfortable with sofa-pillows, borrowed from the whole length of the
corridor. Altogether, there might have been twenty girls in the room,
and every girl was, or seemed to be, talking as fast as her tongue could
move.

Peggy was hailed with a bird-like call from one corner.

"My Veezy-vee! come here, Peggy Montfort, and sit by me."

It was Viola Vincent. She was curled up at the head of one of the beds.
She wore the prettiest pink tea-gown imaginable, and her hair was a
wonder of puffs and curls.

"Come here!" she repeated, patting the pillows. "Lots of room; miles!
Let her come here, Fluffy!"

"Yes, she shall, in a minute, V.," replied Bertha. "But first,--Toots,
here's Peggy Montfort!"

The Snowy Owl came swiftly out of the closet, where she had been
performing some mystic rite; she took Peggy's two hands in hers, and
held them in a warm, firm grasp that was the very soul of cordiality.

"I'm so glad!" she sa