When Kit came down the staircase, she glanced into the library and saw Marcelle in there alone, bending down before the long wall bookcases.

Across the wide hall there were groups of boys and girls in the two long double parlors, laughing and talking together, and every couch and settee along the T-shaped hall was occupied, but Marcelle was alone.
Whoever had built Hope College had managed to work out some of his dreams of old world beauty.

The library was wainscoted in some dull satin finished wood, with the graining of olive wood.

In the west wall was set a deeply embrasured mullioned window of stained glass, with the figure of a young girl in white in college cap and gown, her face upturned, as she seemed to come towards one through a garden of foxgloves, pale-pink and hyacinth in hue.

Beneath was the one word, Hope.