It was evident, as Alison entered and looked about her. Marcia had unpacked her trunk, which stood open in the hall beside their door, and had strewed her belongings about as freely as though she had expected to occupy the room alone.
It was a fairly good-sized room, containing two single beds, and a dresser, chair and small table for each girl. A roomy closet was well supplied with hangers and shoe-racks. A glance showed Alison that Marcia had placed her dresser and table close to the window and strewn them with photographs and toilet articles in lavish profusion. Also, that she had taken the best chair.
"I changed things a little. You don't mind, do you?" she asked, watching Alison.
"Oh, no, it's your room as well as mine," Alison answered good-humoredly, and proceeded to open her own trunk, which had been brought up and placed in the hall, according to custom, and to arrange her part of the room. Marcia had encroached on her side of the closet, she noticed, but she said nothing, only hanging up a few dresses and leaving the rest in her trunk. She placed a few favorite books between a pair of bronze bookends, her father's parting gift; laid her Bible beside them, and her pretty new portfolio her mother had given her; and finally set her cherished lamp on the dresser. She had scarcely finished, and stood surveying the effect, when there was a rush of little feet in the corridor, the door was flung open, and a small, rosy-faced curly-haired girl rushed in to fling herself into Alison's arms.
"Oh, Alison, you darling thing! I'm so thrilled to be back, and in our same old room, too."
Chapter III
SOME OF THE GIRLS
"Lovely to be back," said Alison, warmly kissing the pretty childish face," but you are too late for us to be roommates, Jo. I have another roommate, a new girl, Marcia West. Marcia, this is Joan Wentworth, who roomed with me last year."