"Thanks; good-morning, Miss Heath."

It was all done in an instant, and the next thing Kitty knew she was
rolling away with the elegant Horace sitting opposite. How little
it takes to make a young girl happy! A pretty dress, sunshine, and
somebody opposite, and they are blest. Kitty's face glowed and dimpled
with pleasure as she glanced about her, especially when _she_, sitting
in state with two gentlemen all to herself, passed "those girls"
walking in the dust with a beardless boy; she felt that she could
forgive past slights, and did so with a magnanimous smile and bow.

Both Jack and Fletcher had graduated the year before, but still took
an interest in their old haunts, and patronized the fellows who were
not yet through the mill, at least the Seniors and Juniors; of Sophs
and Freshs they were sublimely unconscious. Greeted by frequent slaps
on the shoulder, and hearty "How are you, old fellows," they piloted
Kitty to a seat in the chapel. An excellent place, but the girl's
satisfaction was marred by Fletcher's desertion, and she could not see
anything attractive about the dashing young lady in the pink bonnet to
whom he devoted himself, "because she was a stranger," Kitty said.

Everybody knows what goes on in the Chapel, after the fight and
scramble are over. The rustle and buzz, the music, the oratory and the
poem, during which the men cheer and the girls simper; the professors
yawn, and the poet's friends pronounce him a second Longfellow. Then
the closing flourishes, the grand crush, and general scattering.

Then the fun really begins, as far as the young folks are concerned.
_They_ don't mind swarming up and down stairs in a solid phalanx; they
can enjoy half a dozen courses of salad, ice and strawberries, with