The meal had come to an end, and as no one seemed inclined to dance that night, Molly soon found herself an inmate of Kate's pretty cubicle. The dormitory consisted of a long, lofty room, with cubicles at each side and a passage down the middle. The cubicles were divided by wooden partitions, and were railed off in front by pretty curtains. The whole arrangement was pleasant, bright, and convenient; the drawback being that sounds could be distinctly heard from one cubicle to another. With this one disadvantage, the cubicles possessed all the comforts of small private rooms. In her own cubicle, each girl could indulge her individual taste, and thus give a certain indication of her character. Kate O'Connor's was decidedly of the chaotic order. As she entered it now, followed by her two companions, she made a dash at her hat, scarf, and gloves, which lay sprawling across her bed.
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, "how my Irish nature does burst forth! Do stay near the door for a moment, girls, or rather, I should say, near the curtains. I'll set this room right in a jiffy. Now, then, here goes!"
She pulled open a drawer, thrust her hat and scarf out of sight, kicked a box under the bed, pulled open the lid of her desk, swept a quantity of papers into it, then faced her two companions with her hands to her sides.
"Voilà!" she exclaimed; "now tell me, you two, is there a more perfect room in the world? The fact is this, I like a certain degree of order on the surface and disorder beneath. I couldn't live with tidy drawers; they'd drive me mad in a week. I like a hay-stack in my drawers; there's something exciting about never knowing where to find your things. You pitchfork your hay-stack up and down, and there's no knowing what may unexpectedly turn up. There are advantages in not being too well acquainted with one's property. The other night, for instance, I was in despair how to make myself look smart to meet our beloved Leicester's angelic eye. I suddenly came across two yards of pale green ribbon buried under a lot of débris in the hay-stack. I twisted half in my hair, and made a knot of the remaining half for the neck of my blouse. Leicester, the darling, looked at me with much approval. Have I shocked you, girls?"
"Not me," said Amy. "I know you far too well."
"You have astonished me," said Molly. "I certainly never thought you were untidy. You don't look it a bit in your dress or hair. I rather think I like you for it. I'm glad, at least, that you are not perfect."
"You dear little quaint piece of goods!" said Kate. "How ridiculous it does sound to hear you speak of me as perfect! Did you really think so, even for a minute?"
"I did. Oh, now we can meet on common ground. Kate, what are you laughing at?"
"I must have my laugh out," replied Kate. "Amy, did you hear—did you hear what she said? She thought me perfect! I, the dreamy, the untidy, the reckless, the incorrigible! Bless you, Molly! I have not laughed so heartily for many a day."
"But you don't want to be the incorrigible?" said Molly anxiously.