Peggy's mouth twitched into her characteristic smile, dimple and all, and she gazed somewhat ruefully back over the closely written sheet.
"Fancy me a society lady," she said to herself. "Oh, I never imagined even in my wildest dreams that I should get to be that--nor ever wanted it, either, if I tell the truth. I love parties and I adore people and hope always to have lots of them around me, men and women and children and everybody. But just to make a sort of career out of visiting and dancing--oh, I want college."
All the indefinite longing that the spring brings with it took the shape in Peggy's mind of this one paramount desire. If she could go to college she would be happy. If she could not, she must be miserable. Ashamed of herself for her attitude she might be, but crush the wish she could not. Katherine had had her application in at Hampton for three years now and had so been assigned a room on campus with another girl named Gloria Hazeltine. Peggy felt that already she was dropping out of her room-mate's life. The other girls were all planning their next year, at table, outside the class-rooms, on their way to Vespers on Sundays. But she had nothing to plan. And the idea began to form in her mind that if she had some definite idea it would be better--even if the idea involved something hard and unheard of like earning her own living. At least there would be excitement in the contemplation of actually doing it.
So one day when all the rest were talking Hampton, Hampton, and nothing but Hampton, and when Daphne Damon turned abruptly to Peggy and said: "Peg, infant, what are you going to do next year?" she answered quickly, "Clerk in a store, I think." And their expressions were mingled astonishment and--yes, she caught it, envy.
"My goodness, Peggy, wouldn't that be lovely," gasped Florence Thomas. "Who would ever think of anything so daring but you? You'll certainly have more to write about in your letters than we will, but will you promise to keep up a correspondence with us, nevertheless, so we can hear how the famous experiment is going?"
A while later, in their room, Katherine excitedly handed Peggy a letter she had just been reading.
"From your substitute, Peggy," she said, "or, in other words, my room-mate-to-be. The registrar gave her my address, just as she had given me hers, and she was sweet enough to write me a let's-get-acquainted letter. I never thought of doing it. She has a nice name, hasn't she--Gloria Hazeltine."