"

There was a general laugh at this; then, for a time, there was silence
while the carriage rolled along the prairie road.

Carlos had no difficulty in finding the home of the Rev. Mr. Jones in
Bolo. It proved to be a little house, unattractive, and very plain. It
looked particularly forlorn with its bare little front yard, in which
some one had made an attempt to raise nasturtiums and petunias.

"Mercy! I guess we'll _have_ to stand up in corners to sleep," gurgled
Tilly, as the carriage stopped before the side door.

"Sh-h!" warned Genevieve. "Tilly, isn't it awful? Only think of our
Quentina's living here!"

At that moment the door of the little house opened, and Mr. Jones
appeared. From around his feet there seemed literally to tumble out upon
the steps several boys of "assorted sizes," as Tilly expressed it
afterward. Then the girls saw her in the doorway--Quentina. She was
slender, not very tall, but very pretty, with large, dark eyes, and fine
yellow hair that fluffed and curled all about her forehead and ears and
neck.

"O Happy Hexagons, Happy Hexagons, welcome, welcome, Happy Hexagons!"
breathed the girl in the doorway ecstatically, clasping her hands.

"Sounds almost like our Texas yell," giggled Tilly, under her breath.

Genevieve was the first to reach the ground.

"Quentina--I know you're Quentina; and I'm Genevieve Hartley," she
cried, before Mr. Jones had a chance to speak.

"Yes, this is Quentina," he said then, cordially shaking Genevieve's
hand. "And now I'll let you present her to your young friends, please,
because you can do it so much better than I."

They were all out now, on the ground, hanging back a little diffidently.
It was this, perhaps, that made Cordelia think that something ought to
be said or done. She came hurriedly forward as she caught Genevieve's
eye and heard her own name called.

"Yes, I'm Cordelia, and I'm so glad to see you," she stammered; "and I'm
so glad you're not fat and homely, too--er--that is," she corrected
feverishly, "I mean--we didn't any of us get you right, you know."

"Get me--right?" Quentina opened her dark eyes to their fullest extent.

Cordelia blushed, and tried to back away. With her eyes she implored
Tilly or Elsie to take her place.

It was Genevieve who came to the rescue.

"We'll have to own up, Quentina," she laughed. "On the way here we were
trying to picture how you look; and of course we each had to guess a
different thing, so we