.
I'm not sensitive, but--" Betty left the rest unsaid, but her look
expressed volumes.

"Poor Ange!" Polly said with exaggerated feeling. "I don't blame her;
let's go find her; she must need cheering up; besides, I'm tired of
meeting new girls."

Angela answered their knock a few minutes later with a "Come in,"
uttered in her own particular drawl. She was sitting on her bed in the
midst of clothes. Apparently, she had made little or no progress in
unpacking her suitcase, for nothing was put away.

Angela had always been, and was still, the unrivaled beauty of Seddon
Hall. Her complexion was as soft and pink as a rose petal, and her
shimmering golden hair and big blue eyes made you think of gardens and
Dresden china. She was never known to hurry, and she spoke with a soft
lazy drawl, which, curiously enough, never irritated any one. She had
won quite a renown as a poet, but was too quiet to be generally popular.

"Hello, you three!" she greeted, as the girls entered. "I'm awfully glad
you're back. Isn't this a mess?" She included the room with a wave of
her arm. "I don't know where to begin."

"It's exactly the way it was when I left you," Betty exclaimed with
pretended wrath.

"I know it; but you've been so piggy with the dresser drawers and the
wardrobe that there's no room for my things," Angela teased back.

She was apparently willing to leave the argument so, for as the girls
dropped into comfortable positions on the floor and window seat, she
discarded the shoe she was holding, stuffed a pillow behind her and
folded her hands. Her guests stayed until dinner time and talked. It was
almost a class meeting; for it was a well established fact that when
these four girls decided anything the rest of the class agreed with an
alacrity that was very flattering to their good judgment.

It was not until Mrs. Baird, who sat at the Senior table the first night
as a special favor, asked them if they had discovered any homesick new
girls, that they realized that as Seniors, holding responsible positions
in the school, they had failed already.

After dinner they stopped to consult on the Bridge of Sighs--the covered
way that connected the two main buildings of the school.

"Well, what's to be done?" inquired Lois. "Instead of deciding what
color shoes we'd wear at commencement we should have been drying
somebody's eyes."

"Quite right," Betty mimicked Lois' righteous tones. "We were very
selfish; in fact, I'm ashame