“Oh, you’re laughing at me.  I know you think I’m abominably vain, but I’m not.  There really isn’t one spark of vanity in me.  And I’m never a bit grudging about paying compliments to other girls when they deserve them.  I’m so glad I know you folks.  I came up on Saturday and I’ve nearly died of homesickness ever since.  It’s a horrible feeling, isn’t it?  In Bolingbroke I’m an important personage, and in Kingsport I’m just nobody!  There were times when I could feel my soul turning a delicate blue.  Where do you hang out?”

“Thirty-eight St. John’s Street.”

“Better and better.  Why, I’m just around the corner on Wallace Street.  I don’t like my boardinghouse, though.  It’s bleak and lonesome, and my room looks out on such an unholy back yard.  It’s the ugliest place in the world.  As for cats—­well, surely all the Kingsport cats can’t congregate there at night, but half of them must.  I adore cats on hearth rugs, snoozing before nice, friendly fires, but cats in back yards at midnight are totally different animals.  The first night I was here I cried all night, and so did the cats.  You should have seen my nose in the morning.  How I wished I had never left home!”

“I don’t know how you managed to make up your mind to come to Redmond at all, if you are really such an undecided person,” said amused Priscilla.

“Bless your heart, honey, I didn’t.  It was father who wanted me to come here.  His heart was set on it—­why, I don’t know.  It seems perfectly ridiculous to think of me studying for a B.A. degree, doesn’t it?  Not but what I can do it, all right.  I have heaps of brains.”

“Oh!” said Priscilla vaguely.

“Yes.  But it’s such hard work to use them.  And B.A.’s are such learned, dignified, wise, solemn creatures—­they must be.  No, I didn’t want to come to Redmond.  I did it just to oblige father.  He is such a duck.  Besides, I knew if I stayed home I’d have to get married.  Mother wanted that—­wanted it decidedly.  Mother has plenty of decision.  But I really hated the thought of being married for a few years yet.  I want to have heaps of fun before I settle down.  And, ridiculous as the idea of my being a B.A. is, the idea of my being an old married woman is still more absurd, isn’t it?  I’m only eighteen.  No, I concluded I would rather come to Redmond than be married.  Besides, how could I ever have made up my mind which man to marry?”

“Were there so many?” laughed Anne.

“Heaps.  The boys like me awfully—­they really do.  But there were only two that mattered.  The rest were all too young and too poor.  I must marry a rich man, you know.”

“Why must you?”

“Honey, you couldn’t imagine me being a poor man’s wife, could you?  I can’t do a single useful thing, and I am very extravagant.  Oh, no, my husband must have heaps of money.  So that narrowed them down to two.  But I couldn’t decide between two any easier than between two hundred.  I knew perfectly well that whichever one I chose I’d regret all my life that I hadn’t married the other.”