All along the station platform, bevies of merry-faced, daintily dressed young women were engaged in the joyful occupation of greeting classmates who had arrived on the four o'clock train. Here and there, committees of upper class girls were extending friendly hands to timid freshmen just set down in the outskirts of the land of college.
Stepping down from the train Jane had been instantly seized by her energetic chums and smothered in a triangular embrace. A mist had risen to her gray eyes at the warmth of the welcome. She was, indeed, no longer the lonely outlander. It was all so different from last year and so delightful.
"It's good to have you back, perfectly dear old Jane!" emphasized Judith, giving Jane an extra hug to measure her joy at sight of the girl she adored.
"What happiness!" gurgled Adrienne. "We had the g-r-r-r-eat anxiety for fear that you would perhaps not come on this train."
"Oh, I telegraphed Judy from St. Louis on a venture," laughed Jane. "I knew she'd be here ahead of me."
"Then you did receive my letter," Judith said with satisfaction. "I was afraid you mightn't."
"I didn't answer it because I was coming East so soon," apologized Jane. "I took your advice, though, about the eats. There was a stop over at St. Louis, so I went out and bought a suitcase full of boxed stuff. Maybe it isn't heavy! We'll have a great spread in our room to-night. Who's back, Judy? Have you seen Christine Ellis or Barbara Temple yet? Is Mary Ashton here? I know Dorothy isn't or she'd be here with you."
As Jane rattled off these lively remarks, her three friends exchanged significant eye messages.
"Then—why—you——" stammered Judith, a swift flush rising to her cheeks.
"What's the matter, Judy?"