“You’ll love our room, Sue!” Mimi was saying as she relieved Sue of some of her luggage as they trailed Mrs. Cole’s swishing serge skirt toward Prep Hall. Styles could come and styles could go but Mrs. Cole’s dark skirts with tails and her white shirt waists would be at Sheridan forever. “Mrs. Cole wears a uniform, too,” a last year’s girl had already informed Mimi.  
“How did you manage to get here? Why didn’t I know? How could you keep from telling me?’
 
“Honest, Mimi—I didn’t know—I’m pinching myself to see if it’s I; that I’m actually here in the flesh. I’m scared to death I’ll wake up and be back in B. G.”
 
“Tell me before I go mad and bite myself!”
 
“The folks I’d do more with my music here. Mother isn’t very well. My honorable male parent made some quick money in the stock market. I heard Mother telling him plenty about that, although they don’t know I did. Oh boy, was it good? Mother said it was of the worst kind. Father said she must listen to reason. Finally in desperation he offered her half of it and Mother took him up and scared him sure enough. ‘All right, I’ll take it—I’ll take it and—and—send Sue to school!’”
 
“What an inspiration!”
 
“That’s all it was, I’m sure. She had been talking to your Mother on the telephone, saying goodbye or something and talking about how happy you were going to be here. I know that just popped in Mother’s head. But Father took her up on it. Whatever miracle it was, I’m here. My uniforms won’t get here for a week.”
 
Handicapped by bundles, they hugged each other the best they could.
 
Mrs. Cole turned and to them.
 
“Young ladies, don’t make public displays of your emotions.”
 
The parrot-like way she said it, Mimi knew she had laid that law down a thousand times. She looked at Sue and said, “Br-r-r” and made motions of turning her collar up.
 
Mimi slowed up at 207 but Mrs. Cole kept right on.
 
“Excuse me, Mrs. Cole, but here is 207.”
 
“Well?”
 
“I am in 207.”
 
“Yes, goodnight, Mimi. Er—er—Lou.”
 
“My name is Sue, Sue Hawkins.”
 
“Yes, yes, Sue dear. This way. I am putting you in 321. It is a single room and I hope you’ll like it. Your reservation came in so late.”
 
“But Mrs. Cole—” Mimi had not stopped at 207. As soon as it dawned on her what was happening she hurried after them. “Mrs. Cole, please, Sue and I want to room together. I don’t have a roommate. You see we are both from B. G., and we know each other. We were in camp together this summer.”
 
“Our parents would want us to be together,” Sue took up Mimi’s desperate appeal.
 
“My dears, we have a policy here at Sheridan that new girls from the same town are not allowed to room together their first year. It breeds homesickness and cliques—we want neither. Next year if you still feel this way, we’ll see. Besides, Mimi, you have a roommate. I have assigned Clorissa Madison to 207 since supper. The adjoining room is full now. You may come with us, if you wish, and help Lou—er, I mean, Sue, .”
 
There was nothing further Mimi could do—not then. As soon as she and Sue closed the door of 321 behind Mrs. Cole, they put their heads together. Sue looked disgustedly at the narrow room.
 
“Even if I can’t room with you, I won’t stay in this room. I’ll go home first!”
 
“Forget it for tonight. Fix up and go back down to the and meet some of the girls. I want to get back to 207-209 and see who has moved in. I am in a , the only one in Prep Hall, and if I don’t like the other three girls I may envy you this single room. Go on down and I’ll join you later. In the meantime I hope to ‘scum a scheme.’”
 
Mimi was so absorbed that she absent mindedly turned in the open door of 209 and stumbled against a trunk in the dark. The hall light shown in through the open door on the name painted across the end in white letters—Betsy Buchanan.
 
“Whew!” Mimi whistled between her teeth. “Now that’s something!” She had wanted the cutest and the peppiest in her suite but this was more than she expected. Delighted as she was she felt strangely uneasy. Mimi backed away from the trunk and into the hall instead of cutting through the bathroom to 207. Here again she stumbled, another trunk tagged Clorissa Madison blocked her way again.
 
“Clorissa Madison,” Mimi said aloud and the sound was pleasing to her. “I wonder which one of all that mob downstairs is you, Chloe?”
 
She turned toward the to find out.
 
Even as she arrived Chloe faded into the background of her mind. The scene had changed since she left. The college girls, instead of being grouped by classes as they were when she left, were massed in one large group. The new preps who had clustered so eagerly around Mimi had joined the old preps. Betsy was in front of the whole group giving directions.
 
Mimi watched from the edge of the crowd. Betsy, she knew, had what it took—pep, , and that gift of leadership.
 
Between the end of the last yell and the singing of Alma Mater, Mimi was conscious of lowered voices behind her. Two members strolling through the hall had paused to listen.
 
“The Buchanan girl is a born leader,” one of the voices said.
 
“I am too,” Mimi wanted to answer. Instead, she resolved to show them. “Actions,” Cissy had told her so often, “speak louder than words.”