any one else in the crowd. I wasn’t afraid a Soph might walk over me; I was afraid they’d take me for an elephant, or an overgrown sample of a potato-fed Islander.”
“I suppose the trouble is we can’t forgive big Redmond for not being little Queen’s,” said Anne, gathering about her the shreds of her old cheerful philosophy to cover her nakedness of spirit. “When we left Queen’s we knew everybody and had a place of our own. I suppose we have been unconsciously expecting to take life up at Redmond just where we left off at Queen’s, and now we feel as if the ground had slipped from under our feet. I’m thankful that neither Mrs. Lynde nor Mrs. Elisha Wright know, or ever will know, my state of mind at present. They would exult in saying ‘I told you so,’ and be convinced it was the beginning of the end. Whereas it is just the end of the beginning.”
“Exactly. That sounds more Anneish. In a little while we’ll be acclimated and acquainted, and all will be well. Anne, did you notice the girl who stood alone just outside the door of the co-eds’ dressing room all the morning—the pretty one with the brown eyes and crooked mouth?”
“Yes, I did. I noticed her particularly because she seemed the only creature there who looked as lonely and friendless as I felt. I had you, but she had no one.”
“I think she felt pretty all-by-herselfish, too. Several times I saw her make a motion as if to cross over
