That evening in Ronny’s room Leila, Vera, Marjorie and Jerry gathered for one of their old-time “Traveler” meetings. The arrival of Ronny’s trunks had furnished a treat of Mexican sweets, tempting and varied. There were all sorts of candied tropical fruits, strange toothsome nut pastes and a golden delicious sweet called dulce. There were even candied sweet potatoes.

“Get busy and help yourselves,” Ronny directed as she placed the large square tin box of confections on the table before her chums. “I’ve a supply of Mexican candy on hand. I’m going to take this box to l’enfant angelique.” She smiled as she referred to Gussie Forbes by the title the chums had privately re-named her after her change of heart during her freshman year. “Back in a minute.” Ronny flitted from the room burdened with a second square tin box of sweets.

“Gentleman Gus needs a reward of good conduct for keeping her temper this afternoon. She was all ready to turn the pow-wow into a real tomahawking party with one blonde scalp for a trophy,” was Jerry’s opinion.

“I expected an explosion,” Marjorie confessed with a smile; “but none came. Gussie is splendid, I think.”

“How perfectly foolish in Miss Monroe to take such a ridiculous stand! I can’t help criticizing her for it,” Vera said disapprovingly. “In the face of not knowing whether she will pass her exams or not.”

“If she flunks in the soph exams, she can still try for freshie estate,” Lucy reminded.

“It seems she likes no one but herself,” Leila now made dry observation. “We thought in the summer it was only the four of us at the Hall and Kathie who were not to her taste. Now we may banish our sorrow. We are no worse off than the rest of the college.”

“Such a relief to my mind,” snickered Jerry. During the three or four days that the Sanford group of girls had been back at Hamilton she had seen Doris Monroe half a dozen times and had formed one of her peculiar dislikes to the self-centered young woman. “Behave Jeremiah.” She gave one plump wrist a resounding whack. “Remember the stranger; et-cÆtera; et-cÆtera.”

“But never think about your old friends.” A tall girl in a gray sports coat and hat, her charming face alive with laughter, had opened the door on Jerry’s curtailed quotation of Hamilton’s first tradition.

“Muriel Harding; you rascal of rascals!” Jerry reached the newcomer at a bound. She caught her about the waist and pranced Muriel over the floor in a wild dance which landed both against the opposite wall with force.

“Call off Jeremiah,” begged Muriel mirthfully. “She’s too rough to belong in polite society. The rest of you aren’t much more ladylike,” she called out as a determined quartette hemmed her in and attempted to embrace her in a body.

“You deserve rough house tactics,” declared Jerry. The happy light in her eyes told another story. The other girls’ faces also reflected their pleasure in Muriel’s return.

“You mysterious old goose. I can’t think of anything to say to you that would be really disrespectful,” Marjorie assured the broadly beaming Traveler. “We’ve missed you dreadfully. I’m so glad you’re back.”

“So am I. I was fairly sure she wouldn’t desert us,” Lucy said with a wise nod of her dark head. “She used to make fun of me so much that I learned her tricks. I had an idea all the time that she couldn’t stay away from this illustrious crowd.”

“How sweet in you all to miss me.” Muriel wept a few mock tears of appreciation into her handkerchief. “As for you, Luciferous, you know too much.” She treated Lucy to a glare of displeasure which broke up in mirth. Lucy’s rare, childish giggle invariably sent Muriel into peals of laughter.

In the midst of the hilarity Ronny re-appeared and a fresh burst of welcoming began. Once or twice it occurred to Marjorie that they were making almost as much commotion as had the party of girls in Gussie’s room that afternoon. Freshmen occupied the rooms on either side of Ronny and Lucy. They were evidently less fussy than was Miss Monroe.

“Now tell us all about it,” Marjorie coaxed when Muriel had been fondly divested of coat and hat and established in the room’s most comfy chair.

“All about what?” Muriel pretended wide-eyed innocence.

“You know; just go right ahead and talk,” Jerry coolly invited. “No use in asking us questions.”

“Um-m-m. Perhaps you are right, my dear Jeremiah,” Muriel conceded sweetly. “Well, I thought it would be wonderful to be missed. I knew that neither you, Ronny, nor you, Jeremiah had proper regard for me. I had my doubts about Lucy. I knew Bean was a kindly creature who would at least think she missed me. But I wanted all of you to feel the heart-breaking sadness of not seeing me around and circulating merrily on the campus. So I decided to put you all to the test, and——”

“Fakir,” hissed Ronny making a serpentine dive for Muriel’s chair and landing on an arm of it. She promptly clapped a hand over Muriel’s mouth. “You sha’n’t say another word until you promise to tell us the real reason.”

Muriel uttered a series of unintelligible remarks behind Ronny’s hand. She held up her own right hand finally as a sign of compliance. Ronny reluctantly took away the barrier to speech.

“This is the truth, girls, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I almost got myself engaged to be married, but not quite.” Muriel’s pretty features grew rosy as she made this naive confession. “It was on that account I was so mysterious about coming back. It’s Harry Lenox, of course. I may marry him someday.” Muriel waved an indefinite hand. “Really, I didn’t know what I wanted to do until the last minute. After you girls were gone from Sanford I couldn’t bear to be left out of building the dormitory and switching around the campus as a venerable P. G. So here I am. Yours truly.” Muriel favored her audience with one of her wide captivating smiles.

“Much ado about nothing,” Jerry commented derisively.

“Precisely,” beamed Muriel. “Let me return the compliment. ‘Shallow brooks babble loudest.’”

“I think Miss Remson said she had half a room left, Muriel,” Vera said presently when the excitement attending Muriel’s unexpected arrival had abated.

“Oh, glorious! I hadn’t dare hope for a vacancy at the Hall. I thought I’d be lucky to get into any campus house. I suppose the Hall will be full of freshies this year.”

“Yes. Some of them haven’t arrived yet. We are going to do station duty tomorrow. Help Gussie and the Bertramites out with station detail,” Marjorie told Muriel.

“I haven’t seen Miss Remson yet. The maid let me in. I’ll go down stairs now. My bag and suitcase are in the hall.” Muriel rose and walked to the door. “Come on, gang, and go with me,” she crooked an inviting finger.

Down the stairs trooped the seven girls, Muriel and Marjorie in the lead. They swarmed Miss Remson’s tiny office where the manager sat writing. Her surprise at seeing Muriel was no less than that of the girls had been.

“Vera said you had half a room still open,” was Muriel’s immediate anxious cry. “If I may have it I’ll consider myself the luckiest person under the sun.”

Miss Remson sat back in her chair and surveyed Muriel with a perplexed frown. “Yes, there is half a room still vacant,” she said, her small keen face full of doubt: “half of Miss Monroe’s room.” Her gaze traveled to Marjorie and rested inquiringly on the latter’s concerned features.

“Oh-h-h!” went up in a breath from the enlightened group.

“What’s the matter?” Muriel appeared mystified. “Who’s Miss Monroe?” Repetition of the name jogged memory. “Oh, yes; I remember. She’s the pretty girl you told me about; the fairy-tale princess; beautiful but icy; et-cÆtera, et-cÆtera; as our esteemed roughneck, Jer—. Excuse me. I mean our valued friend Jerry Macy loves to say.”

Far from being dismayed at the prospect of an uncongenial roommate Muriel accepted the situation with her usual buoyant spirit. “What’s the use in worrying?” she demanded after she had asked numerous questions about her prospective roommate and received nothing but the kindest information her friends could truthfully give. “I know you girls are trying to live up to tradition. I can guess a good deal between the lines about my new roommate.”

“Then you are quite sure you wish to make the arrangement, Muriel?” anxiously asked Miss Remson.

“Sure as can be,” Muriel flippantly asserted. “I choose to spend my declining P. G. years at the Hall. Shall I turn down such a chance to flourish in the bosom of my friends?”

“You may have my half of Jerry’s and my room, Muriel,” Marjorie made sudden astounding offer. “I’ll room with Miss Monroe instead of you.” Marjorie was not sanguine of Muriel’s proposed venture. She knew that Muriel and Jerry would be happy together. She was afraid impulsive high-strung Muriel might soon find herself in difficulties. She did not anticipate any smoother sailing for herself. She had reflected before making the offer so characteristic of her unselfish soul that companionship with the strange, unfriendly girl might bring Miss Monroe into a better understanding of Hamilton College.

“Nope.” Muriel shook a smiling head. “I’m going to choose the enchanted iceberg for a roommate and see what happens. Are you modest enough to believe that Jeremiah would allow me to supplant you as a roommate? Thank you a million times just the same.”

“That’s the way to talk. I never credited you with such reasoning power as you have just displayed, my dear Miss Harding.” Jerry smiled fatuously upon Muriel then transferred her smiles to Marjorie. “You don’t seem to have the least inkling of my deep regard for you. Bean,” she reproved.

“You see the way things are?” Marjorie turned to Miss Remson with a laughing gesture.

“Yes, I see.” The manager rose from her desk. “Pardon me, children. I had best go upstairs and notify Miss Monroe that her roommate has arrived.”

“Tell her she may expect me,” giggled Muriel. “You needn’t say much about me. I’ll astonish her by walking in on her presently with a special P. G. swagger. Nothing succeeds like nerve, you know.” Muriel’s velvety brown eyes were dancing with mischief.

“I’ll back you to win,” were Jerry’s encouraging words. “You have almost as much nerve as I have; perhaps more.”

“I wish I could believe you.” Muriel was blandly regretful.

“What a waste of good health to worry over that one, Beauty!” Leila pointed derisively at Muriel.

“I should say so,” Ronny agreed with teasing stress. “I’m sorry for the enchanted iceberg.”

Marjorie listened and laughed at the exchange of repartee. At the same time she wondered, if, after all, Muriel Harding might not prove to be the best possible roommate for the lovely, ungracious fairy-tale princess.