“Now I know what it means to be ‘in the swim,’” she thought exultantly.  “I feel like a duck who has found a whole lake to swim in, when it has never had anything bigger than a puddle before.”

The sensation was so exhilarating that it prompted her to exert herself to keep on saying funny things and send her audience off into gales of laughter.  And all the time the consciousness deepened that they really liked her, that she was really entertaining them.

After lunch the day went by in a rush.  Each teacher met her classes, programmes were arranged and lessons assigned.  By night Mary had made the acquaintance of every girl in the Freshman class and many of the others.  She started to her room all aglow with the new experiences, thinking that if she could only find Ethelinda responsive it would put the finishing touch to a perfect day.  Betty was in the upper hall surrounded by an admiring circle, for all the old girls who remembered her as the star of her class, and all the new ones who had been attracted to her from the moment they saw her were crowding around her as if she were holding some kind of court.  It was a moment of triumph for Mary when Betty laughingly excused herself from them all and drew her aside.

“Come into my room a few minutes,” she said.  “I’ve something to show you,” While she was looking through her desk to find it she asked, “Well, how goes it, little girl?  Is school all you dreamed it would be?”

“Betty, she won’t thaw out a bit.”

“Who, dear?”

“That Miss Ethelinda Hurst.  When I went up stairs to dress for dinner I tried my best to be sociable, and brought up every subject that I thought would interest her.  She barely answered till she found that I had come out to Warwick Hall from the city alone.  That horrified her, to think I’d taken a step without a chaperon, and she said it in such a way that I couldn’t help saying that I thought one must feel like a poodle tied to a string—­always fastened to a chaperon.  As for me give me liberty or give me death.  And she answered, ‘Oh, aren’t you queer!’ Then after awhile I tried again, but she wouldn’t draw out worth a cent.  Said she had never roomed with any one before, but supposed it was one of the disagreeable things one had to put up with when one went away to school.  Imagine!  Pleasant for me, wasn’t it!”

“Try letting her alone for awhile,” advised Betty.  “Beat her at her own game.  Play dumb for—­say a week.”

“But that is so much good time wasted, when we might be chums from the start.  When you’re going to bed is the cream of the day.  You see you always had Lloyd, so you don’t know what it is like to room with an oyster.”

“Here it is,” announced Betty, unwrapping the package she had just found, and passing it to Mary.  “Lloyd’s latest photograph, the best she has ever had taken, in my opinion.  It’s so lifelike you almost wait to hear her speak.  And I like it because it’s so simple and girlish.  I suppose the next one will be taken in evening gown after she makes her debut.”