Laura Polk, as an older girl and, after all, one of the most
thoughtful, suddenly noticed a stranger in brown who still stood
just inside the door that somebody had thoughtfully closed.

She made quite a charming, not to say striking, figure, as she
stood there alone, just the faintest smile upon her lips, yet
looking quite as neglected and lonely as any novice could possibly
look.

This stranger wore brown furs and a brown coat, with a hat to match
on which was a really wonderful brown plume. She wore bronze shoes
and hose. Even Linda Riggs was dressed no more richly than this
girl; only the latter was dressed in better taste than Linda.

Laura, leaving the gay company, went quickly toward the girl in
brown and held out her hand.

"I am sure you are a stranger here," she said. "And I am a member
of the Welcoming Committee. I am Laura Polk. And you--?"

"I am Rhoda Hammond," said the demure girl quietly.

"What!" almost shouted the startled Laura. "You're never! You can't
be! Not Rollicking Rhoda from Rustlers' Roost, the wild Western
adventuress we've heard so much about?"

"No," said the girl in brown, still placidly. "I am Rhoda Hammond
from Rose Ranch."