She was dressed in black, a thin black lawn, with collar and cuffs of dark red linen, and her heavy brown hair was braided in two long plaits down her back.

She waited there, it seemed to Kit, expectant on the threshold of opportunity, not knowing which way to go, and without a friendly hand extended to her in welcome or guidance.
Norma Riggs, who sat next to Kit, glanced back to see what had attracted her attention, and made a funny little deprecating sound with her mouth.
"I never thought she'd have the nerve to really do it," she whispered.
"Isn't she odd ?" A quick impulsive wave of indignation swept over Kit, and she rose from her seat, passing straight down the aisle without even being aware of the curious glances which followed her.

She took Marcelle by storm.
"You're in my class, aren't you ?" she whispered quickly.

"It's right over here, and there's a seat beside me.

I don't know any one either, and I'm so glad to see you, so I'll have some one to talk to." Marcelle never answered, but smiled with a quick flash of appreciation, the smile which always seemed to illumine her rather grave face.