“Now I know why the name, Oakdale, seemed so familiar!” exclaimed Mabel Ashe.  “I have heard Constance mention it.  She is one of my best friends.  Does she know that you are to be here?”

“No,” replied Grace.  “We haven’t seen her this summer.  We were away from Oakdale.”  Grace did not wish to mention their trip to Europe, fearing their companion might think her unduly anxious to boast.  One of the things against which Julia Crosby, her old time Oakdale friend, and a senior in Smith College, had cautioned her, was boasting.  “Avoid all appearance of being your own press agent,” Julia had humorously advised.  “If you don’t you’ll be a marked girl for the whole four years of your college career.  The meek and modest violet is a glowing example for erring freshmen.”

“I’ll remember, Julia,” Grace had promised, and she now resolved that she would think twice before speaking once, whatever the occasion might be.

“Constance has not arrived yet,” said Mabel.  “I heard her roommate say this morning that she expected her to-morrow.  She rooms at Holland House, too.  I shall tell her about you the moment I see her.  This is the Tourraine,” she announced, pausing before a handsome sandstone building and leading the way up the steps that led to the broad veranda, gay with porch boxes of flowers and shaded by awnings.

“Won’t you come up to our rooms?” asked Miriam.

“Not to-night, thank you,” replied Mabel.  “Frances and I will be over bright and early to-morrow morning to pilot you to the college.  Then you can find out about the examinations.  Good-night and pleasant dreams.”  Extending their hands in turn to the three girls and nodding a last smiling adieu, the two courteous juniors left them on the hotel veranda.

“I must admit that I have been agreeably disappointed,” said Miriam Nesbit as the three girls stood for a moment before entering the hotel to watch the retreating backs of their new acquaintances.

“I, too,” replied Grace.  “I can’t begin to tell you how dejected I felt while we stood there on the station platform and no one came near us or appeared to be aware of our existence.”

“It was enough to discourage the most optimistic freshman,” averred Anne.

“I wonder who J. Elfreda Briggs’s friends were,” commented Miriam.  “She never said a word about knowing any one at Overton.  I imagine she is a thoroughly selfish girl, and the less I see of her in college the better pleased I shall be.”

As their suite of rooms had been engaged in advance it needed but a word to the clerk on Grace’s part, then each girl in turn registered and they were conducted to their suite.

“This suite seems to be supplied with all the comforts of home,” observed Miriam, looking about her with satisfaction.  “I am thankful to have reached a haven of rest where I can bathe my grimy face and hands.”

“So am I,” echoed Grace, setting down her suit case and sinking into an easy chair with a tired sigh.  “I am starved, too.  Let us lose no time in getting ready for dinner.  After dinner we can rest.”