Happiness reigned in the cottage, and days were not so cold or snows so deep but that Sylvia and her grandfather went forth for their afternoon tramp.
There was nothing morbid or anaemic about Sylvia.

Every morning she pulled weights and swung Indian clubs with her windows open.

A mischievous freshman who had thrown a snowball at Sylvia's heels, in the hope of seeing her jump, regretted his bad manners: Sylvia caught him in the ear with an unexpected return shot.

A senior who observed the incident dealt in the lordly way of his kind with the offender.

They called her "our co-ed" and "the boss girl" after that.