"'Yet a few days, and thee the all-beholding sun shall see no more.'"
quoted Emma Dean lugubriously.
"Not quite so bad as that," returned Elfreda with an appreciative grin.
"Even we juniors feel more or less that way," said Laura Atkins. "I never had any real fun until I came to Overton. The time has gone so fast I can't believe that it is two years since I locked Grace and Anne out of their room and behaved like a savage. I don't wonder Elfreda named me the Anarchist. I did my best to live up to the name."
"Oh, forget about that," murmured Elfreda, looking embarrassed.
The members of the club were wholly familiar with the history of Laura Atkins's freshman year and admired her for the matter-of-fact way in which she was wont to discuss her early short-comings. Under the sunny influence of the four girls who had helped her to find herself, she had developed into a gracious and likeable young woman. She and Mildred Taylor were the guests of the club that afternoon.
"What is the latest word from erring freshmen? Has any one heard?" asked Grace. Laura's reference to herself had set Grace to thinking of freshmen in general.
"We've six at Ralston," groaned Julia Emerson. "The usual variety—neither rich nor poor, brilliant nor dull, amiable nor perverse, goody-goody nor lawless. Just that comfortable, maddeningly commonplace variety of girls who never go to extremes."
"Extremes are dangerous," declared Elfreda judicially.
"Better be an extremist than nothing at all," grumbled Julia.