“Stop a minute, I’ll find it for you,” said a voice.  A tall girl with big, brown eyes suddenly darted into view, picked up the sixpence as if by magic, popped it into Priscilla’s hand and then vanished.  Priscilla knew that this was the girl who had laughed; she heard her laughing again as she turned to join some one who was standing beside a laurel hedge.  The two linked their arms together and walked off in the darkness.

“Such a frightened poor fresher!” said the girl who had picked up the sixpence to her companion.

“Maggie,” said the other in a warning voice, “I know you, I know what you mean to do.”

“My dear, good Nancy, it is more than I know myself.  What awful indiscretion does your prophetic soul see me perpetrating?”

“Oh, Maggie, as if anything could change your nature!  You know you’ll take up that miserable fresher for about a fortnight, and make her imagine that you are going to be excellent friends for the rest of your life, and then—­ p——­ f! you’ll snuff her out as if she had never existed; I know you, Maggie, and I call it cruel.”

“Is not that Miss Banister I hear talking?” said a voice quite close to the two girls.

They both turned, and immediately with heightened color rushed up eagerly to shake hands with the vice-principal of their college.

“How do you do, my dears?” she said in a hearty voice.  “Are you quite well, Maggie, and you, Nancy?  Had you a pleasant holiday?  And did you two great chums spend it together?”

The girls began answering eagerly; some other girls came up and joined the group, all anxious to shake hands with Miss Heath and to get a word of greeting from her.

At this moment the dressing-gong for dinner sounded, and the little group moved slowly toward the house.

In the entrance hall numbers of girls who had recently arrived were standing about; all had a nod, or a smile, or a kiss for Maggie Oliphant.

“How do you do, Miss Oliphant?  Come and see me to-night in my room, won’t you, dear?” issued from many throats.

Maggie promised in her good-natured, affectionate, wholesale way.

Nancy Banister was also greeted by several friends.  She, too, was gay and bright, but quieter than Maggie.  Her face was more reliable in its expression, but not nearly so beautiful.

“If you accept all these invitations, Maggie,” she said as the two girls walked down the corridor which led to their rooms, “you know you will have to sit up until morning.  Why will you say ‘yes’ to every one?  You know it only causes disappointment and jealousy.”

Maggie laughed.

“My dear, good creature, don’t worry your righteous soul,” she answered.  “I’ll call on all the girls I can, and the others must grin and bear it.  Now we have barely time to change our dresses for dinner.  Surely, though, Nance, there’s a light under Annabel Lee’s door.  Who have they dared to put into her room?  It must be one of those wretched freshers.  I don’t think I can bear it.  I shall have to go away into another corridor.”