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feel in a way that this is making up to the
College for the long, enforced holiday two years ago, when I was so ill
with typhoid fever.
My sister Grace had made her plans to spend the winter in New York
as she did not expect to be needed by me as housekeeper, so I am
"baching" again; and very lonesome it is after being so spoiled and
looked after by Grace.
The place seems sad and gloomy to me and the College is full of raw
and unattractive girls. I could hardly refrain from throwing a copy of
Rosetti at a forward miss the other day in class, when she attempted to
read "The Blessed Damozel" and I remembered a certain little
Freshman, who, five years ago, held me enthralled by her rendering of
that wonderful poem.
I was delighted to see your friend Miss Melissa Hathaway, who is a
relief indeed, after all of these chattering school girls. What a
wonderful personality she has! Her beauty is even richer and more
glowing than formerly. She reminds me of October in the mountains,

her own Kentucky mountains. Did you ever notice her eyes and the
quality they possess, which is a very rare one: that of seeming to hold
the reflection of trees and skies when she is indoors? It is as though she
were still seeing her forests at home.
I hope to help her a great deal in her English as she is afraid this will
have to be her last year at college. She feels that she is needed at home
to carry on the work of her friend and teacher Miss Allfriend, whose
long and arduous labors among the mountain folk have impaired her
health. Melissa thinks she should take up the work and give her friend a
rest. Noble girl! Dicky Blount thinks so, too, and even more so. Did
you know that he found or manufactured some business in Catlettsburg,
Kentucky, last summer and surprised Miss Hathaway in her mountain
fastness?
Please give my kindest regards to your mother and express to her my
deep regret that I am not to be her cicerone for some of the sights of
Paris. I am hoping that before the winter is over I may be relieved and
then, ho, for the fastest steamer afloat!
I am sending you some novels that may amuse you both on your
voyage; also, a box of crystallized ginger that is the very best thing for
seasickness that I know,--not that you are to be seasick, but just in case.
I am trying to be cheerful and not let Miss Walker see how I am
kicking at fate, but I am as mad as a schoolboy who has to do chores on
Saturday! Very sincerely your friend,
EDWIN GREEN.
CHAPTER II.
BON VOYAGE.
Mrs. Brown and her daughter Molly were at last safely off on what they
called their "great adventure." They had waved their handkerchiefs
until the dock at Hoboken was nothing more than a blur to them and
they felt sure that the Laurens was little more than a speck to the

friends that had turned up to see them off.
Molly's classmates at Wellington College, Katherine and Edith
Williams, Edith with the nice, new husband whom Molly was
overjoyed to meet, had appeared, bearing books and candy for the trip.
Jimmy Lufton, of course, just to show that there was no hard feeling, as
he whispered to Molly, was there, also, doing everything for their
comfort; finding their luggage; engaging the steamer chairs; seeing to it
that the stewardess understood about the baths before breakfast; and
attending to many things of the importance of which Molly and her
mother were ignorant.
Richard Blount, too, had turned up ten minutes before sailing, but he
had managed to get in a word with Molly about Melissa Hathaway.
"She is a queen among women, Miss Molly, and I consider that Edwin
Green is a lucky dog to have the privilege of teaching her. To think of
seeing her day after day and hearing her read poetry with that
wonderful voice! He tells me she is the most remarkable reader he has
ever known. I am too fond of old Ed to hate him, otherwise I should
find it easy. By the way I have left something in care of the steward for
you and your mother as a cure for seasickness. You will find that there
is nothing like it!"
"Oh, thank you so much! I feel sure that I shall not be sick, but I am
just as obliged as though I were going to be. Mother may be. You see
we have never been on the ocean in our lives, but we have always felt
that we would like