"Well," said Kate, "my plan is this—I want to form a society to eject selfishness from St. Dorothy's."
Amy sighed deeply.
"Oh, Kate!" she cried; "I did think you had got something sensible in your head at last. What is the use of taking up wild, abstruse ideas of that sort?"
"My idea is neither abstruse nor wild," replied Kate. "Do listen, Amy; you can speak and argue as much as you like when you know what I mean. You and I, my dear, belong to the afflicted tribe—we live in cubicles. We are the Dwellers in Cubicles—that is our name. There are times, Amy, when Mary Jane and Julia make my cubicle anything but an abode of peace. I've not the least doubt that Harriet and Pussy give you headache also at odd intervals. It is not easy to write good epitomes of our lectures when we are sitting between two fires of idle badinage, chaff, silly stories, and sometimes even—I'll just whisper the word—quarrelings.
"Now, in this house there are a certain number of rooms which fortunate students hold undisputed sway over. Some of these students are obliging, and during the hours of study, share their rooms with their less fortunate friends; but others are selfish, perhaps from thoughtlessness, and keep their rooms to themselves. I have been racking my brains over a careful calculation, and I find that, supposing St. Dorothy's to be quite full, every student in the place could be accommodated with a quiet corner for study, if each girl who has a room to herself would share it with one chum between supper and prayer time. Of course, such a state of things can't be enforced by any rules or any order, but it is my belief that moral suasion can do a good deal. I want to bring morality to bear in the matter. I want to form a club, and I want to force the girls to become members of it; those who refuse can be sent to a sort of moral Coventry. The object of the club will be to wage war against selfishness, and particularly against that awful form of selfishness which sports its oak, to borrow an Oxford phrase, against the suffering Dwellers in Cubicles. What do you say, Amy, to my darling scheme?"
"Oh, my dear, I should love it, of course," replied Amy; "but unfortunately I belong to the Dwellers in Cubicles. Molly's opinion is worth having, for she belongs to the opposite side."
"I brought Molly here on purpose," said Kate. "Molly is just in the position to give a perfectly candid and unbiased opinion. She is a privileged member of the Single-room Fraternity. She has made no special friends as yet. Now, Molly, you can tell me frankly what you think of the scheme. How, for instance, would you like to share your room with an outsider?"
Molly thought for a moment.
"You speak frankly to me," she said, "and I must reply in the same spirit. I have a great friend. I am hoping against hope that she may come to St. Dorothy's. My friend is poor, and I know that she will be obliged to come here in the least expensive way. She will not have a room to herself, and I look forward with great pleasure to giving her any little privilege I can. I hope that she and I may study together in my room."