“Is that the second gong?”
“The second gong sounded two or three minutes ago.”
“Then we must fly. Oh, never mind our hands. Ink? Yes, I have ink on my hands and on my face and
on my hair; but never mind, never mind; they know me now. I am called ‘Inky Annie.’ I rather glory in the name.”
“But I should have thought that a mathematical scholar would have been the essence of order,” said Leslie. “Surely mathematics ought to conduce to order of mind and body.”
“You know nothing whatever about it,” said Annie, casting a withering glance at Leslie. “I wonder if you are clever or what you have come here for. Girls who are merely orderly have no niche at St. Wode’s. But you will learn doubtless; and if you are good-natured I will stick up for you of course. Come along now; you are a fresher, you know, this term, and will be treated accordingly.”
“But how are freshers treated, and why must I be given that unpleasant name?” asked Leslie.
“Custom, my dear—custom. We always call the new girls freshers; you’ll get used to it. No one is unkind to a fresher unless she makes herself disagreeable, which I rather guess you won’t.” Here Annie smiled brightly into Leslie’s face.
“Well, I hope we shall be good friends, and that I won’t inconvenience you,” said the other girl.
“You won’t if you are silent and keep to your side of the room. Now then, let’s join hands and fly downstairs.”