Molly Brown's Freshman Days Part 36

Molly smiled and went to bed, feeling that her last day at Wellington had been a decided improvement on the first one.

The next morning Queen's Cottage was a pandemonium of trunks and bags and excited young women, rus.h.i.+ng up and down the halls. Cries could be heard from every room in the house of:

"The laundress hasn't brought my s.h.i.+rtwaists! Perfidious woman!"

"The expressman's here!"

"Is your trunk strapped?"

 

"I've got to sleep in an upper berth."

"Don't forget to write me."

"Where are you to be this summer?"

"I can't get this top down and the trunk man's waiting!"

"Oh, dear, do hurry! We'll miss the bus!"

"Young ladies, the bus is coming," called the voice of Mrs. Markham from the front door.

And then, with a fluttering of handkerchiefs and many a last call of "good-bye," the bus-load of girls moved sedately down the avenue.

Molly, looking back at the twin gray towers of Wellington, understood why Frances Andrews wanted so much to return.

"How glad I am to be only a soph.o.m.ore," she cried. "I shall have three more years at Wellington!"

THE END.