It was soon settled that Betty and Bobby were to have the center room in a suite of three and Libbie and Frances should be on one side of them, and Louise and Constance Howard on the other.  There was a perfectly appointed bathroom opening off the center room which the six were to share.  Norma and Alice Guerin were given a room that adjoined that occupied by Libbie and Frances, but nominally, Miss Lacey explained, they would be considered as a unit in the next suite of three connecting rooms.  Fortunately two very friendly, quiet girls drew the room immediately next to the Guerin girls.

“But, Betty, listen,” whispered Norma Guerin, drawing Betty aside as a great bumping and banging announced the arrival of the trunks.  “Who do you suppose has the room next to the Bennett sisters?  Ada Nansen and Ruth Gladys Royal!”

“You are in hard luck!” commented Bobby, who had overheard, as she danced off to open the door to the grinning expressman.

“All the porters are busy!” the man explained.

“So I just told ’em Tim McCarthy wasn’t one to stand by and let work go undone.  Where would ye be wantin’ these little bags put now?”

He had a trunk on his back that, as Bobby afterward remarked to Betty, “would have done for an elephant.”

“Girls, whose trunk is this?” demanded Bobby.

“Not mine!” came like a well-drilled chorus.

“‘Miss Ada Nansen,’” read Betty, examining the card.  “Bobby, that’s one of the five!”

They directed the perspiring expressman to the right door and, it is to be regretted, shamelessly peeped while he toiled up and down bringing the five trunks and three hat boxes.  Then he began on the baggage consigned to Ruth Gladys Royal, and the watchers counted three trunks.

Betty looked at the Guerin girls and laughed.

“Eight trunks!” she gasped.  “They can’t get that number in one room.  Not and have any room for the furniture.  Norma, do go and see what you can see.”

Norma sped away, and returned as speedily, her eyes blazing.

“What do you think?” she demanded furiously.  “They’ve had some of ’em put in our room, three I counted, and two in the Bennett girls’ room.  They’re as mad as hops!”

“The Bennett girls are my friends,” declared Bobby Littell sententiously.  “I only hope they’re mad enough to hop right down to the office and explain the state of things.”

But the luncheon gong sounded just then, and a laughing, colorful throng of femininity swept down the broad stairs to the dining room.

“How lovely!” said Betty involuntarily.

There were no long tables in the large, airy room.  Instead, round tables that seated from six to eight, each daintily set and with a slender vase of flowers in the center of each.  Betty and Bobby had the same thought at the same moment.

“If we could only sit together, all of us!” their eyes telegraphed.