“Not in our rooms, but there is a place on every floor where we can make fudge or press our clothes or—anything. And these, ladies,” continued the Pink Kimono with a sweeping gesture, “are the Imps, or in other words, the Misses Diane Percy and Helen Paget, sometimes also known as the Sweet P’s, though we can’t say that is very original. We always have Sweet P’s at Greycliff. The other frail being who is unable to rise is Betty Barnes, my unhappy companion in misery, that is, she is in misery—my roommate. Elizabeth, can’t you do anything but grin?”
Three slim arms reached to shake hands and pull Hilary and Cathalina down into the charmed circle, where a bag of salted peanuts was set before them.
“Perhaps you would like to know our names too,” said Hilary as she took the bag and poured a few peanuts into Cathalina’s hand. “We are Cathalina Van Buskirk, she—and Hilary Lancaster, me. I prefer rhyme to grammar, you see, by poetic license, as my learned father might say. And may we please know the name of the Pink Kimono?”
“Beg pardon,” said that bright mystery, sitting down with the rest. “I am Lilian North. But wouldn’t that make a good name for a detective story or a movie?—‘The Pink Kimono.’ Honestly, girls, I am so full of nonsense today that I am positively silly!”
Diane assumed a pained expression and said in a stage whisper to the other “Imp”, “She has discovered it.”
“Imp!” cried Lilian.
Diane Percy was grey-eyed and red-cheeked, with a crisp, decided way of speaking; while her roommate, Helen Paget, was golden-haired, with dark eyes, and a delicious Southern drawl. Betty Barnes was slim and fair, her soft, dark hair tied with a rose ribbon, her blue eyes much like Cathalina’s in hue, her manner demure, and a trifle more reserved than that of Lilian. All were nice girls and this proved to be the beginning of a happy friendship for both Cathalina and Hilary. Of their homes and history we may learn more later.
The amount of fudge and peanuts was steadily diminishing, while many things about the school were being discussed and the girls were getting acquainted, when Hilary sprang up suddenly at the sound of baggage, being thumped and bumped not far away. “That must be my six band boxes and a bird cage,” said she, and with a farewell wave disappeared.
“I must go too,” said Cathalina, wondering if Hilary really did have band-boxes. “Thank you all so much for the good time; you must come over to see us—won’t you?”
“Indeed we will,” replied Lilian and the others variously expressed their friendly intentions. Number 51 was a three-room suite, two single beds in each bedroom, the common sitting room large and sunny, with an attractive window seat, which would doubtless be fitted up with cushions when the girls finally decided to straighten up their belongings. As Cathalina left the girls for her own quarters, a young cyclone in short dress and with new shoes that squeaked, bumped past, almost upsetting Cathalina, and with a careless “beg pardon”, flew past, breaking in a door a little further down the hall and shutting it with a bang. Cathalina stood looking after her with a shocked expression, and Hilary, who just then appeared in the door of 52, laughed and remarked, “Another of our neighbors, I suppose!”