"And you are a Freshman?"
"Well, you see, I was out last year part of the time—typhoid fever—and—oh, I'm no high-brow, anyway! Mother thought I'd best take the year over again. She says I've plenty of time. I'm just fifteen."
She laughed good-naturedly, showing a set of teeth dazzling in their perfection and whiteness.
"I'm working hard this year, though. You see, I want a room with a bath, and you have to be a Sophomore to get it."
"I see. An incentive, isn't it?"
"This is a fairly good room, don't you think? It's the best on the floor. Carita's lucky—that is, as far as the room goes. My room-mate was called home three weeks before Christmas. Her mother died. Poor little Nell!"
"I'm sorry for her," Carita said sympathetically, "but if she hadn't gone I couldn't have entered the school this year, it was so crowded."
Somewhere down the length of the hall a gong sounded.
"What's that for?" Blue Bonnet asked.
"Bed. In a half hour another will ring and every light on this floor will go off instantly."