l; now, with thanksgiving, they were revenging themselves
upon fresh victims! Darsie felt a horrible certainty that she would
drop her cup, and spill the tea over the floor; plain Hannah munched and
munched, and looked plainer than ever, with her shoulders half-way up to
her ears and her chin burrowed in her necktie.

Presently the door opened again, and another Fresher entered, cast a
frightened glance around, and subsided on to the nearest chair, while
every eye turned to gaze upon her, in her turn. This programme was
enacted several times over before Darsie and Hannah had finished tea,
and were ready to be escorted to the upstairs apartments, which were to
act as bedroom and study combined.

Mercifully the rooms were close together, so that, leaving Darsie half-
way along the corridor, the maid could point to a door near at hand,
where she could join her friend when her inspection was complete. She
entered with the feeling of one on the threshold of a new life, and
stood gazing around in mingled disappointment and delight. The first
impression was of bareness and severity, an effect caused by the absence
of picture or ornament of any kind. A small white bed stood in one
corner; a curtain draped another, acting as a substitute for a wardrobe;
a very inadequate screen essayed unsuccessfully to conceal a wooden
washstand, and a small square of glass discouraged vanity on the part of
an occupant. So far, bad! but, on the other hand, the room contained
inexpensive luxuries, in the shape of an old oak chest, a bureau, a
standing bookcase, and a really comfortable wicker chair.

Darsie could hardly believe that these treasures were meant for her own
use; it seemed more likely that they had belonged to a former student,
who would presently demand their return. She was sorrowfully resigning
herself to this contingency when the door burst open, and in rushed
Hannah, aglow with excitement.

"I've got a chest, and a bookcase, and a bu--"

Her eyes rounded with surprise. "I say! So have you--I thought I _was_
swag! Do you suppose it's the usual thing?"

"Can't say. Topping for us if it is. But the screen's a wretch, and
the walls will need a _lot_ of covering. My few mites of pictures will
go nowhere. There's not _too_ much room for our clothes, either. We'd
better unpack, I suppose, and get out things for dinner. What are you
going to wear?"

"Oh, something--whatever comes handy," replied plain Hannah in h