“I do not know much about them,” replied Leslie. “Yes; they have just come to St. Wode’s—their names are Marjorie and Eileen Chetwynd. They were kind enough to share a cab with me coming from the station, and seem to be very nice girls indeed.”
“I like their faces,” said Miss Heriot; “but what a funny way they do their hair. I don’t care for that short hair; do you?”
“Not personally,” replied Leslie; “but they seem nice girls and have handsome faces.”
“Yes, I am sure they are charming, and also out of the common. I only trust they won’t join the oddities. We have a few oddities here, of course. I am so glad you are not going to be one.”
As Jane spoke she glanced toward Annie Colchester, who looked back at her and nodded.
“I overheard you, Jane,” she said; “and you are perfectly welcome to speak of me as the oddity of all oddities. Miss Leslie Gilroy has found out that fact for herself already; have you not, Miss Gilroy?”
“I have found you quite willing to put up with the discomfort of having me in your room,” answered Leslie, coloring as she spoke.
“You are sure to have a room to yourself after this term,” said Jane Heriot. “This is always our most crowded term; but if Annie takes honors, which she is very likely to do, she will be leaving St. Wode’s, and then the governors will give you another room.”
The dinner proceeded. Leslie asked a few more questions of Jane, who always replied in a pleasant, intelligent manner; and, when the meal had come to an end, she asked Leslie if she would like to come with her to her own room.
“This is our debate evening,” she said. “I will bring you down to the hall presently, and introduce you to several of the girls; but now do come down to my room and have a chat. We don’t debate before half-past eight. I am sure we shall be friends.”