“That’s my brave girls!” he said.  Then he kissed them once more, and hurried away.  Perhaps he did not wish them to see that his eyes too were a little misty.

As the door closed behind them, Katy and Clover realized that they were alone among strangers.  The sensation was not pleasant; and they felt forlorn, as they went upstairs, and down Quaker Row, toward No. 6.

“Aha! so you’re going to be next door,” said a gay voice, as they passed No. 5, and Rose Red popped her head into the hall.  “Well, I’m glad,” she went on, shaking hands cordially; “I sort of thought you would, and yet I didn’t know; and there are some awful stiffies among the new girls.  How do you both do?”

“Oh! are we next door to you?” cried Clover, brightening.

“Yes.  It’s rather good of me not to hate you; for I wanted the end room myself, and Mrs. Florence wouldn’t give it to me.  Come in, and let me introduce you to my room-mate.  It’s against the rules, but that’s no matter:  nobody pretends to keep rules the first day.”

They went in.  No.5 was precisely like No. 6, in shape, size and furniture; but Rose had unpacked her trunk, and decorated the room with odds and ends of all sorts.  The table was covered with books and boxes; colored lithographs were pinned on the walls; a huge blue rosette ornamented the head-board of the bed; the blinds were tied together with pink ribbon; over the top of the window was a festoon of hemlock boughs, fresh and spicy.  The effect was fantastic, but cheery; and Katy and Clover exclaimed, with one voice, “How pretty!”

The room-mate was a pale, shy girl, with a half-scared look in her eyes, and small hands which twisted uneasily together when she moved and spoke.  Her name was Mary Silver.  She and Rose were so utterly unlike, that Katy thought it odd they should have chosen to be together.  Afterward she understood it better.  Rose liked to protect, and Mary to be protected; Rose to talk, and Mary to listen.  Mary evidently considered Rose the most entertaining creature in the world; she giggled violently at all her jokes, and then stopped short and covered her mouth with her fingers, in a frightened way, as if giggling were wrong.

“Only think, Mary,” began Rose, after introducing Katy and Clover, “these young ladies have got the end room.  What do you suppose was the reason that Mrs. Florence did not give it to us?  It’s very peculiar.”

Mary laughed her uneasy laugh.  She looked as if she could tell the reason, but did not dare.

“Never mind,” continued Rose.  “Trials are good for one, they say.  It’s something to have nice people in the room, if we can’t be there ourselves.  You are nice, aren’t you?” turning to Clover.

“Very,” replied Clover, laughing.

“I thought so.  I can almost always tell without asking; still, it is something to have it on the best authority.  We’ll be good neighbors, won’t we?  Look here!” and she pulled one of the black-handled drawers completely out and laid it on the bed.  “Do you see? your drawers are exactly behind ours.  At any time in silent study hour, if I have something I want to say, I’ll rap and pop a note into your drawer, and you can do the same to me.  Isn’t it fun?”