The new girl followed Nat along the passage which led to the row of senior studies, added to the school accommodation when the Annexe was built. She listened silently as Nat, who was a sociable soul, chatted cheerfully. She was not very responsive, however; not even when Nat, with obvious pride, ushered her into the little room, remarking:
"To a certain extent we are allowed to furnish or decorate our studies as we like. It's rather fun to see the different ideas different girls have. This study is rather bare at present, but the girl who was to share it with me left last term and took her belongings with her, and I haven't had time to hang up my pictures yet. The table, chairs and cupboard are school furniture, but the little bookcase is mine. My youngest brother made it for me, so that accounts for the shelves not fitting properly. Perhaps you would like to suggest things—what colours we should choose for curtains, table-cloth, cushion-covers and so on—or perhaps you have some pictures you would like to put up. I'm afraid I'm not very artistic about that sort of thing."
No gleam of animation or enthusiasm lightened the new girl's face. "I didn't bring anything like that with me," she said, speaking for the first time, in a voice that was low-toned and with a husky note in it. "I didn't know. Besides, I haven't anything, except one or two dressing-table ornaments that will do for my cubicle."
"But perhaps you'll have a few original ideas," persisted Nat. "Then we might look round and buy what we want."
"I don't often get original ideas," was the discouraging reply.
Nat rubbed her nose thoughtfully, reflecting dismally that this was not a very bright beginning and held out few hopes for a jolly future. However, you couldn't always judge new girls from first impressions. Some of them felt very strange and awkward and homesick at first, poor things. She tried again, meaning to be comforting.
"I hope you don't feel homesick, because really there isn't any need. Of course, some of the younger girls are, though we haven't any very young ones. Last year we had a new girl—quite a big girl in the Fourth—who cried and cried every night for a whole week, till her nose was so red the others said it gave her a most disreputable look! Now she cries every time we break up for the holidays."
"Well, I haven't any intention of crying, either now or when we break up. As for being homesick, I haven't a home to be sick for."
"Oh, haven't you? What a shame!" Nat said sympathetically. "Where will you go for the holidays?"
"Oh, I've a house I can go to—my aunt's house. It's very large and comfortable, and you can have everything you want there—but a house isn't a home."