"'And if I do say it as shouldn't,' this room is a credit to our college
and our own sweet native land," proclaimed Elfreda, as she viewed with
critical eyes the long cheerful living-room, to which she and Grace had
just put the final touches. The morning sunshine of a perfect midsummer
day poured in at the windows flooding the scene with dazzling light, as
though smiling its approval of the pretty room. The walls and ceilings
were papered in cream color with a running border of green leaves. The
floor rug was in two shades of green, and the window draperies were in
green and white. The furniture was in mission oak, but there were several
comfortable arm chairs and willow rockers scattered about the room. A long
library table took up considerable space at one end of the room, and
conveniently near it were rows of book shelves, lined with special books
required by the Overton curriculum of study, which, in price, were out of
reach of the more impecunious students, and were in such constant demand
at the library that their temporary possession often meant weeks of
waiting.

There was a piano, of course, but the crowning feature of the room,
however, was the wide window seat built across the bow-window at its upper
end. It was at least four feet wide, upholstered in thick green velvet and
piled high with sofa pillows. It was indeed a cozy corner which invited
rest, and Elfreda confidently predicted that it would be the most popular
spot in the house.

The house itself had not followed the usual plan of modern architecture.
In fact, it was distinctly old-fashioned and built for room rather than
effect. The hall ran the length of the house to the kitchen, dividing it
into two parts. The dining-room was on the side opposite the living-room,
and had also a bow-window. Directly behind it lay the servants' quarters.
Adjoining the living-room was Grace's little office and behind that was a