She was about seventeen, but a short, roly-poly type, with curly rumpled hair and gray eyes that never seemed to keep from mirth.

There were five other girls with her, and spread over the couch, chairs, and table were writing material and papers.
"We're frightfully busy, girls," Charity said, discouragingly.

"What do you want ?" "Just to look at your room.

Isn't it inspiring, Kit?
This is Kit Robbins, Charity." "Hope you'll like it at Hope." Charity gave Kit her hand with a warm grip.
"I'm from the east, too, only not so far as you are, but we think Pennsylvania's east, out here.

How do you like the decoration ?" Kit liked it, and said so emphatically.