No one was in the little sitting room, which looked cosy with bright cushions, pennants and pictures already in place; but Eleanor looked out from the other bedroom, as Ann went into hers. “Is that Ann?” she asked. Ann placed her things in the inner room and went out to meet Eleanor, and in a moment, Aline. “Glad to see you,” said Eleanor. “I imagine that you are surprised to see us in your family. But it is a fine old suite and I think it lucky for us to get it. It is larger than most of them, and I like being on the second floor.”
Ann, still holding Eleanor’s hand, for Eleanor had taken hold of her arm, looked around at the large windows, the comfortable couch, the window seat with drawers below, to which Eleanor pointed, and expressed her enthusiasm. “Sit down,” said Eleanor, still the hostess. “I suppose Marta told you how this happened?”
“As much as I knew about it,” said Marta, stretching out on the couch.
“Yes. I couldn’t say much, could I?”
“Not if you were wise,” laughed Marta.
“Well, I had a good reason for not rooming with Genevieve anyhow, and the whole arrangement was made before I knew much about it. I was to blame a little; for it was suggested to me last spring and I didn’t say nay exactly, too lazy to have the trouble of refusing. Then with my accustomed habit of putting everything off, I did not even write about it this summer; only Mother wrote, asking Miss Tudor to do as well by me as she could, it seems, and did not ask for a new room-mate, as I wanted her to. She didn’t want to get into trouble either. Then we both forgot about it. We had a lovely trip to Alaska this summer,—neither of us had ever been there. So it went. My real trouble with Genevieve was about another matter, and of course I’d rather not speak of that.”
“Of course not,” said Ann, “and I’m sure you need not have explained anyway. As you say, we are lucky to have this suite, and if we can get through the rushing season without coming to blows over the Sig-Eps and the Bats, I have no doubt but we can be the best of friends.” So, laughingly said Ann; and Marta cried, “Hear, hear!”
“One thing that will be of great advantage to me,” smiled Eleanor, “is having all my accompanists in the suite. You can’t get away from me, girls. Promise me, both of you, that if one is sick the other will play,—and poor Aline will have to do it all the time. I adore violin accompaniments, and it will be good practice for her in public appearances!”
“If I were only a contralto singer,” said Marta, “you would have a world-renowned quartet. Too bad that you have two pianists!”
“Suits me,” laughed Eleanor. “I’ll never have to worry.”