printed, 'The Anarchist, Her Card.' I thought I handed it back to her
and tried to explain that I wasn't an anarchist because I had neither
bushy eyebrows nor a scowl. She just sat and glared at me, saying
over and over, 'Look in your mirror, look in your mirror,' until I
grew so angry I threw the card at her. It hit her and she fell
backward. That frightened me, although it seemed so strange that a
little, light piece of pasteboard could strike with such force. I
tried to lift her, but she grew heavier and heavier. Then--"

"Yes, 'then,'" interposed Miriam, "I awoke in time to save myself
from landing on the floor with a thump. Elfreda mistook me for the
registrar. She was walking in her sleep."

"Of course I didn't mean to," apologized Elfreda, "You know that,
don't you, Miriam? I can't help walking in my sleep. I've done it
ever since I was a little girl."

"I forgive you, but you must promise not to dream," laughed Miriam.
"Otherwise I am likely to find myself out the window or being dropped
gently downstairs while you dream gaily on, regardless of what
happens to your long-suffering roommate."

As they entered the dining room several girls already seated at the
table welcomed them with joyful salutations. It was at least ten
minutes before any one settled down to breakfast. Grace observed with
secret relief that Miss Atkins was not at the table. The three
freshmen who were to fill the last available places in Wayne Hall had
not yet arrived. During breakfast a ceaseless stream of merry chatter
flowed on. Everyone wished to tell her neighbor about her vacation,
of what she intended to take during the fall term, or of how