“I fancy we can arrange it; don’t be distressed, my dear,” replied Dr. Carr.  And Katy was satisfied; for when papa undertook to arrange things, they were very apt to be done.

It was almost evening when they reached their final stopping place.

“Now, two miles in the stage, and then we’re at the horrid old Nunnery,” said Lilly.  “Ugh! look at that snow.  It never melts here till long after it’s all gone at home.  How I do hate this station!  I’m going to be awfully homesick:  I know I am.”

But just then she caught sight of the stagecoach, which stood waiting; and her mood changed, for the stage was full of girls who had come by the other train.

“Hurrah! there’s Mary Edwards and Mary Silver,” she exclaimed; “and I declare, Rose Red!  O you precious darling! how do you do?” Scrambling up the steps, who plunged at a girl with waving hair, and a rosy, mischievous face; and began kissing her with effusion.

Rose Red did not seem equally enchanted.

“Well, Lilly, how are you?” she said, and then went on talking to a girl who sat by her side, and whose hand she held; while Lilly rushed up and down the line, embracing and being embraced.  She did not introduce Katy and Clover; and, as papa was outside, on the driver’s box, they felt a little lonely, and strange.  All the rest were chattering merrily, and were evidently well acquainted:  they were the only ones left out.

Clover watched Rose Red, to whose face she had taken a fancy.  It made her think of a pink carnation, or of a twinkling wild rose, with saucy whiskers of brown calyx.  Whatever she said or did seemed full of a flavor especially her own.  Here eyes, which were blue, and not very large, sparkled with fun and mischief.  Her cheeks were round and soft, like a baby’s; when she laughed, two dimples broke their pink, and, and made you want to laugh too.  A cunning white throat supported this pretty head, as a stem supports a flower; and, altogether, she was like a flower, except that flowers don’t talk, and she talked all the time.  What she said seemed droll, for the girls about here were in fits of laughter; but Clover only caught a word now and then, the stage made such a noise.

Suddenly Rose Red leaned forward, and touched Clover’s hand.

“What’s your name?” she said.  “You’ve got eyes like my sister’s.  Are you coming to the Nunnery?”

“Yes,” replied Clover, smiling back.  “My name is Clover,—­Clover Carr.”

“What a dear little name!  It sounds just as you look!”

“So does your name,—­Rose Red,” said Clover, shyly.

“It’s a ridiculous name,” protested Rose Red, trying to pout.  Just then the stage stopped.

“Why?  Who’s going to the hotel?” cried the school-girls, in a chorus.

“I am,” said Dr. Carr, putting his head in at the door, with a smile which captivated every girl there.  “Come, Katy; come, Clover.  I’ve decided that you sha’n’t begin school till to-morrow.”