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diff --git a/24168-h/24168-h.htm b/24168-h/24168-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1146137 --- /dev/null +++ b/24168-h/24168-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9831 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Little Miss Nobody, by Amy Bell Marlowe</title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ + <!-- + p {text-align: justify; margin:0 auto 0 auto; text-indent:1em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + table p {text-align: center; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; text-indent:0;} + td.tdright {vertical-align: top; text-align: right;} + td.tdleft {vertical-align: top; text-align: left;} + + h1 {text-align: center; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 0em; clear: both;} + h2 {text-align: center; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 0em; clear: both;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; + position: absolute; right: 2%; border:1px solid #eee; + padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; text-indent: 0; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; + color: silver; background-color: inherit;} + + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black;} + hr.spacer {width: 100%; margin: 3em auto 3em 0; border:none; border-bottom:2px solid white;} + + a.pagenum:after {border: 1px solid silver; padding: 1px 3px; content: attr(title);} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + + .noindent p {text-indent:0;} + + .xl {font-size: 1.3em;} + .l {font-size: large;} + .s {font-size: small;} + .xs {font-size: x-small;} + .c {text-align: center;} + .r {text-align: right;} + .b {font-weight: bold;} + .i {font-style: italic;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .j {text-align: justify;} + .ni {text-indent: 0;} + + .mt2 {margin-top: 2em;} + .mt1 {margin-top: 1em;} + .mtr5 {margin-top: 0.5em;} + .mb2 {margin-bottom: 2em;} + .mb1 {margin-bottom: 1em;} + .mbr5 {margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + .ml2 {margin-left: 2em; text-indent:0} + .nm {margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;} + + div.bookad {font-size:smaller; line-height:110%;} + div.bookad p {text-align:left;} + div.bookad p.ml {margin-left:1em;} + div.bookad p.c {text-align:center;} + + hr.ad, hr.ad5 {margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + hr.ad5 {width: 50%;} + hr.ad {width: 100%;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Little Miss Nobody, by Amy Bell Marlowe</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: A Little Miss Nobody</p> +<p> Or, With the Girls of Pinewood Hall</p> +<p>Author: Amy Bell Marlowe</p> +<p>Release Date: January 4, 2008 [eBook #24168]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LITTLE MISS NOBODY***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="c">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>A LITTLE MISS NOBODY</h1> + +<hr class="spacer" /> + +<div class="bookad"> +<table style="margin: auto; border: 2px solid black;" summary=""> +<col style="width:8%;" /> +<col style="width:84%;" /> +<col style="width:8%;" /> +<tr><td> </td> +<td> +<p class="c l mtr5 mbr5">BOOKS FOR GIRLS</p> +<p class="c l"><i>By</i> AMY BETH MARLOWE</p> +<p class="c s mtr5 mbr5">12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.</p> +<p>THE OLDEST OF FOUR</p> +<p class="ml s">Or Natalie’s Way Out</p> +<p>THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM</p> +<p class="ml s">Or The Secret of the Rocks</p> +<p>A LITTLE MISS NOBODY</p> +<p class="ml s">Or With the Girls of Pinewood Hall</p> +<p>THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH</p> +<p class="ml s">Or Alone in a Great City</p> +<p>WYN’S CAMPING DAYS</p> +<p class="ml s">Or The Outing of the Go-Ahead Club</p> +<p>FRANCES OF THE RANGES</p> +<p class="ml s">Or The Old Ranchman’s Treasure</p> +<p>THE GIRLS OF RIVERCLIFF SCHOOL</p> +<p class="ml s">Or Beth Baldwin’s Resolve</p> +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> +<p class="c b">THE ORIOLE BOOKS</p> +<p>WHEN ORIOLE CAME TO HARBOR LIGHT</p> +<p>WHEN ORIOLE TRAVELED WESTWARD</p> +<p class="c s mtr5 mbr5">(Other volumes in preparation)</p> +<p class="c l">GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<table class="s mb1" width="100%" summary=""><tr><td align="left">PUBLISHERS</td><td align="right">NEW YORK</td></tr></table> +</td> +<td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="spacer" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:364px"> +<a name="illus-000" id="illus-000"></a> +<img src="images/illus-001.jpg" alt=""GOODNESS ME! YOU'RE A PERFECT MISS NOBODY." _Frontispiece (Page 98)._" title="" width="364" /><br /> +<span class="caption">“GOODNESS ME! YOU’RE A PERFECT MISS NOBODY.” <i>Frontispiece (Page 98).</i></span> +</div> + +<hr class="spacer" /> + +<table style="margin: auto; border: double;" summary=""> +<col style="width:9%;" /> +<col style="width:82%;" /> +<col style="width:9%;" /> +<tr><td> </td> +<td> +<p style="font-size:2.2em; margin-top:1em">A LITTLE MISS</p> +<p style="font-size:2.2em; margin-bottom:0.4em;">NOBODY</p> +<p style="font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:1.5em;">OR</p> +<p style="font-size:1.2em;">WITH THE GIRLS</p> +<p style="font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;">OF PINEWOOD HALL</p> +<p style="font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:1em;">BY</p> +<p style="font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;">AMY BELL MARLOWE</p> +<p style="font-size:0.8em;">AUTHOR OF</p> +<p style="font-size:0.8em;">THE OLDEST OF FOUR, THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST</p> +<p style="font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;">FARM, WYN’S CAMPING DAYS, ETC.</p> +<p style="font-size:1.1em; margin-bottom:2em;">Illustrated</p> +<p style="font-size:0.8em;">NEW YORK</p> +<p style="font-size:1.2em;">GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p style="font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;">PUBLISHERS</p> +</td> +<td> </td></tr> +</table> +<p class="xs c ni">Made in the United States of America</p> + +<hr class="spacer" /> + +<div class='noindent'> +<p class="c sc s nm">Copyright, 1914, by</p> +<p class="c sc">Grosset & Dunlap</p> +<hr style="width: 2em;" /> +<p class="c i s">A Little Miss Nobody</p> +</div> + +<hr class="spacer" /> + +<p class="c xl">CONTENTS</p> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents" class="sc"> +<col style="width:18%;" /> +<col style="width:3%;" /> +<col style="width:70%;" /> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<tr> +<td align="right"><span style="font-size:x-small">CHAPTER</span></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +<td align="right"><span style="font-size:x-small">PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">I.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Miss Nobody from Nowhere</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#MISS_NOBODY_FROM_NOWHERE_142">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">II.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">The Boy in the Millrace</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#THE_BOY_IN_THE_MILLRACE_442">14</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">III.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">On The Way to Pinewood</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#ON_THE_WAY_TO_PINEWOOD_672">23</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">IV.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Bearding the Lion</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#BEARDING_THE_LION_830">29</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">V.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Nancy’s Curious Experience</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#NANCYS_CURIOUS_EXPERIENCE_1091">39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">VI.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">The Unrivaled Scorch</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#THE_UNRIVALED_SCORCH_1331">47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">VII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">First Impressions</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#FIRST_IMPRESSIONS_1623">57</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">VIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">The Madame</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#THE_MADAME_1855">65</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">IX.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Cora Rathmore</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#CORA_RATHMORE_2087">74</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">X.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">“Who Is She, Anyway?”</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#WHO_IS_SHE_ANYWAY_2355">84</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XI.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">On Clinton River</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#ON_CLINTON_RIVER_2748">99</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">The First Advance</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#THE_FIRST_ADVANCE_3080">112</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">It Proves Disastrous</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#IT_PROVES_DISASTROUS_3503">127</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XIV.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Heaps of Trouble</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#HEAPS_OF_TROUBLE_3829">138</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XV.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">A Great Deal Happens</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#A_GREAT_DEAL_HAPPENS_4188">150</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XVI.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">It Comes to a Head</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#IT_COMES_TO_A_HEAD_4554">162</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XVII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">A Rift in the Clouds</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#A_RIFT_IN_THE_CLOUDS_4937">176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XVIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Better Times</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#BETTER_TIMES_5191">185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XIX.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">The Races</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#THE_RACES_5631">202</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XX.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">The Freshman Election</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#THE_FRESHMAN_ELECTION_5897">212</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXI.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Senator Montgomery</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#SENATOR_MONTGOMERY_6163">222</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Is It a Clue?</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#IS_IT_A_CLUE_6504">235</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Back to School Again</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#BACK_TO_SCHOOL_AGAIN_6838">247</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXIV.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">The Thanksgiving Masque</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#THE_THANKSGIVING_MASQUE_7172">260</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXV.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Getting On</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#GETTING_ON_7590">274</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXVI.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Mr. Gordon Again</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#MR_GORDON_AGAIN_7750">280</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXVII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">tHe Man in Gray Again</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#THE_MAN_IN_GRAY_AGAIN_8145">293</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXVIII.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">Scorch “On the Job”</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#SCORCH_ON_THE_JOB_8421">302</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXIX.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">All About Nancy</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#ALL_ABOUT_NANCY_8676">310</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdright">XXX.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdleft">No Longer a Nobody</td> + <td class="tdright"><a href="#NO_LONGER_A_NOBODY_8912">319</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class="spacer" /> + +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_1" id="pg_1">1</a></span> +<a name="MISS_NOBODY_FROM_NOWHERE_142" id="MISS_NOBODY_FROM_NOWHERE_142"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>MISS NOBODY FROM NOWHERE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The girls at Higbee School that term had a craze for marking everything +they owned with their monograms. Such fads run through schools like the +measles.</p> + +<p>Their clothing, books, tennis rackets, school-bags—everything that was +possible—blossomed with monograms, more or less ornate.</p> + +<p>Of course, some girls’ initials offered a wider scope than others’ for +the expression of artistic ideas; but there wasn’t a girl in the whole +school who couldn’t do <i>something</i> with her initials, save Nancy.</p> + +<p>“N. N.” What could one do with “N. N.”? It was simply impossible to +invent an attractive-looking monogram with those letters.</p> + +<p>“N. N.—Nancy Nelson—just Nobody from Nowhere,” quoth Nancy to Miss +Trigg, the teacher and school secretary who, despite her <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_2" id="pg_2">2</a></span>thick +spectacles and angular figure, displayed more of a motherly interest in +Nancy than anybody else at Higbee School.</p> + +<p>Miss Prentice, the principal, never seemed to be interested in Nancy. +The latter had nobody to “write home to,” either good or bad about the +school—so the principal did not have to worry about her. And it didn’t +matter whether Nancy’s reports showed “improvement” or not—there was +nobody to read them.</p> + +<p>Miss Trigg was also a lonely person; perhaps that was why she showed +some appreciation for “Miss Nobody from Nowhere.” Sometimes in the long +summer vacation she and Nancy were alone at the school. That drew the +two together a little. But Miss Trigg was a spinster of very, very +uncertain age—saving that she couldn’t be young!—and it was the more +surprising that she seemed to understand something of what the +sore-hearted young girl felt.</p> + +<p>“The really great people of this world—the worth-while people—have +almost all been known by one name. There were many Cæsars, but only one +<i>Cæsar</i>, who crossed the Rubicon, and in his ‘Commentaries’ said: ‘All +Gaul is divided into three parts.’ One never hears what Cleopatra’s +other name was,” pursued Miss Trigg, with her queer smile. “Whether +Isabella of Spain—the <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_3" id="pg_3">3</a></span>Isabella that made the voyages of Columbus +possible—had another name, or not, we do not inquire. How many of us +stop to think that the married name of the English Victoria—that great +and good queen—was ‘Victoria Wettin,’ and that for the years of her +widowhood she was in fact ‘the Widow Wettin’?</p> + +<p>“The greatest king-maker the world ever saw—the man who turned all +Europe topsy-turvy—was known only by one initial—and that your own, +Nancy. Here! I will make you a more striking monogram than any of the +other girls possess,” and quickly, with a few skilful strokes of her +pencil, Miss Trigg drew a single “N” surrounded by a neat, though +inverted, laurel wreath.</p> + +<p>“Now your monogram will not conflict with Napoleon’s,” she said, with +one of her rare laughs; “but it is quite distinctive. It stands for +‘Nancy.’ Forget that ‘Miss Nobody from Nowhere’ chatter. You may be +quite as important as any girl in the school—only you don’t know it +now.”</p> + +<p>That was what really troubled Nancy Nelson. She was too cheerful and +hopeful to really care because she couldn’t entwine the two initials of +the only name she knew into an artistic bowknot! It was because “N. N.” +really meant nothing.</p> + +<p>For Nancy didn’t know whether the name belonged <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_4" id="pg_4">4</a></span>to her or not. She knew +absolutely nothing about her identity—who she was, who her people had +been—of course, it was safe to say she was an orphan—where she had +lived before she came to the Higbee Endowed School when she was a little +tot, who paid her tuition here, or what was to become of her when she +was graduated.</p> + +<p>And Nancy Nelson, now approaching the end of her last year at the +school, was more and more persuaded that she should know something about +herself—something more than Miss Prentice, or Miss Trigg could tell +her.</p> + +<p>Years before Nancy had listened to the story of her earlier life as it +was whispered into her ear when she and Miss Trigg were alone together, +just as though it was a story about some other little girl.</p> + +<p>One September day, just after the fall term had opened, a gentleman +brought a tiny, rosy-cheeked, much beruffled little girl to Miss +Prentice and asked the principal of Higbee School to take charge of the +little one for a term of years—to bring her up, in fact, as far as she +could be brought up and taught at that institution.</p> + +<p>This gentleman—who was a lawyer rather well known at that time in +Malden, the small city in which the school was situated—could only say +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_5" id="pg_5">5</a></span>that the little girl’s name was Nancy Nelson, that she had no parents +nor other near relatives, and that he could assure the principal that +the tuition and other bills would be paid regularly and that Nancy would +have a small fund of spending money as she grew.</p> + +<p>Who she really was, where she had lived, the reason for the mystery that +surrounded the affair, the lawyer would not, or could not explain. He +had left Malden soon afterward, but was established in Cincinnati—and +he met all Nancy’s bills promptly and asked each quarter-day after her +health. But he showed no further interest in the little girl.</p> + +<p>As for Nancy herself, she remembered nothing before her appearance at +the school. And that was not strange. She was a kindergartner when Miss +Prentice accepted the responsibility of training her—the very youngest +and smallest girl who had ever come to Higbee School.</p> + +<p>Miss Prentice was too firm a disciplinarian to be a very warm-hearted +woman. Save for Miss Trigg’s awkward attempts at motherliness, and the +surreptitious hugs and kisses of certain womanly servants about the +school who pitied the lonely child, Nancy Nelson had experienced little +affection.</p> + +<p>She was popular in a way with her fellow pupils, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_6" id="pg_6">6</a></span>yet there had always +been a barrier between her and the rest of the school. She was the +refuge of the dull scholars, or of the little ones who needed help in +their lessons; but Nancy never made a real <i>chum</i>.</p> + +<p>It was not the girl’s fault. She was heart-hungry for somebody to love, +and somebody to love her. But circumstances seemed always to forbid.</p> + +<p>A new girl was scarcely settled at Higbee before somebody pointed Nancy +out to her as a girl who was “peculiar.” Sometimes the story of Nancy’s +coming to the school, and of her circumstances, were sadly twisted. She +was often looked upon as a combination of Cinderella and the Sleeping +Princess.</p> + +<p>However that might be, it set Nancy in a class by herself. Girls came +and went at Higbee. Some took the entire course and were graduated. But +none save Nancy remained at the school from year’s end to year’s end.</p> + +<p>Miss Prentice saw to it that the girl had a sufficient supply of neat +and serviceable dresses. She had all that she could possibly need, but +little that she really <i>wanted</i>.</p> + +<p>When her spending money was increased moderately, Nancy was able to buy +herself the little trifles that persons like Miss Prentice never realize +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_7" id="pg_7">7</a></span>a girl’s longing for. Nancy’s private expenditures occasioned even Miss +Trigg to say that she was “light-minded” and would never know how to +spend money.</p> + +<p>They did not take into consideration that Nancy had nobody to give her +the little trifles so dear to every growing girl’s heart. She never had +a present. That is, nothing save some little things at Christmas from +some of the smaller girls whom she had helped. Miss Prentice discouraged +the giving of presents among the girls at Higbee. She said it occasioned +jealousies, and “odious comparisons” of family wealth.</p> + +<p>Miss Prentice was a very good teacher, and she exerted a careful +oversight over both the girls’ health and conduct. Most of the girls had +their particular friends, and even the few other orphans beside Nancy in +the school had those who loved and cared for them.</p> + +<p>But here was a heart-hungry girl with absolutely no apparent future. The +end of her last year at Higbee was approaching and neither Nancy, nor +Miss Trigg, nor Miss Prentice herself, knew the first thing about what +was to “be done with her.”</p> + +<p>Curiosity about herself—who she was, what was in store for her, and +all—sometimes scorched Nancy Nelson’s mind like a devouring flame. She +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_8" id="pg_8">8</a></span>kept a deal of it to herself; it was making her a morose, secretive +girl, instead of the open-hearted, frank character she was meant to be. +Nancy’s future as a girl and woman was in peril.</p> + +<p>She scarcely believed that the name she was known by was her own. Some +time before she had begun to refer to herself as “Miss Nobody from +Nowhere.” It was continually on her mind.</p> + +<p>So Miss Trigg’s suggestion about the monogram was not entirely +satisfactory to Nancy. It is all right to have brave thoughts about +doing great deeds in the future; but—supposing there <i>is</i> no future?</p> + +<p>That’s the way it looked to Nancy Nelson. June was approaching and all +the other girls of the graduating class were exchanging stories of what +they were to do, where they were to go, and all about their future +lives. But Nancy couldn’t tell a single thing that was going to happen +to her after breakfast the day following graduation.</p> + +<p>Of course, Miss Prentice was not bound to keep her a minute longer than +her contract called for. Nothing had been said by the lawyer in whose +hands Nancy’s fate seemed to be, regarding his future intentions. He had +acknowledged the school principal’s last letter at Easter, and that was +all.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_9" id="pg_9">9</a></span>A girl who has spent all her days—almost—in a boarding school must of +necessity possess some small amount of independence, at least. Although +very young, Nancy felt perfectly able to start out into the world alone +and make her way.</p> + +<p>Just <i>how</i> she should earn her living she did not know. But she had read +story books. Sometimes girls of her age were able to help housewives do +their work, or help take care of little children, or even be +parcel-wrappers in big city stores.</p> + +<p>Of course she could not remain at the school. There would be nothing for +her to do here. And Miss Prentice carried her pupils no farther than the +grammar grades.</p> + +<p>Some of the other girls would begin in the autumn at other and more +famous schools—college preparatory schools, and the like. Nancy loved +books, and she hoped for a college education, too; dimly, in some way, +she hoped to find means of preparing for college. But how? That was the +problem.</p> + +<p>One noon, as Nancy filed into the long, cool dining room, Miss Prentice, +who often stood at the door to review the girls as they filed before +her, tapped Nancy on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“My room after luncheon, Miss Nancy,” said the principal, severely.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_10" id="pg_10">10</a></span>She always spoke severely, so this did not disturb the girl. But the +latter was so anxious about her own affairs that she flushed deeply and +only played with her food.</p> + +<p>Both of these things did not trouble Nancy. In the first place, she was +very pretty when she blushed, having an olive complexion and dark, crisp +hair which she wore in two plaits down her back. And she was so plump +that the loss of luncheon wasn’t going to hurt her.</p> + +<p>She was glad when the bell rang for the girls to rise and listen to Miss +Trigg’s murmured “thanks for meat.” Then she ran eagerly over to the +principal’s cottage and found Miss Prentice waiting for her.</p> + +<p>“I have heard from Mr. Gordon,” began that lady.</p> + +<p>“My guardian!” gasped Nancy, clasping her hands.</p> + +<p>“I do not know that he <i>is</i> your guardian,” responded Miss Prentice, +with an admonitory look. “You must remember that he merely pays your +fees here.”</p> + +<p>“Well!” breathed Nancy, trying to contain herself within bounds.</p> + +<p>“He asks me to keep you here this summer as before,” continued the +principal.</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_11" id="pg_11">11</a></span>“He has made no other plans for tiding you over the summer,” went on +the very practical lady. “He objects to entering into arrangements with +any other person for the brief time between your graduation here and +your matriculation at Pinewood Hall in September——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miss Prentice! Pinewood Hall!” cried Nancy, unable to restrain +herself.</p> + +<p>She knew all about Pinewood Hall. It was one of the most popular +preparatory schools in the Middle West. Nancy had never even dreamed +that she would be allowed to attend such a select institution.</p> + +<p>“I do wish you would restrain yourself, Nancy,” said the principal. +“They will think at Pinewood that you have had no proper training here, +at all.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I beg pardon, Miss Prentice,” cried the girl. “I really will try to +be a credit to you if I go there.”</p> + +<p>“I hope so,” observed the principal, grimly, and nodded as though she +thought this terminated the interview.</p> + +<p>“But, Miss Prentice! Is—is that all he says?” queried Nancy, anxiously.</p> + +<p>“That you will remain here—if I agree, which I shall; Miss Trigg will +look after you—until fall, when you will receive your transportation to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_12" id="pg_12">12</a></span>Clintondale and will go there, prepared to continue your studies.”</p> + +<p>“And—noth—ing—more?” sighed Nancy, hopelessly.</p> + +<p>“Indeed! What more could you wish?” demanded Miss Prentice, tartly. “It +seems to me you are a very fortunate girl indeed. Pinewood! There isn’t +another girl in the class whose parents can afford to send her to such a +fashionable preparatory institution.”</p> + +<p>“I know, Miss Prentice. I ought to be grateful, I suppose,” admitted the +girl, wearily. “But—but I <i>did</i> so hope Mr. Gordon would write +something about me—about who I am—about what I am going to be in +life——”</p> + +<p>“I declare!” snapped the principal. “I call this downright ingratitude, +Nancy Nelson. Suppose I wrote what you say to Mr. Gordon? And he should +in turn transmit my report to—to the people who furnish the money for +all this——”</p> + +<p>“That’s just it! that’s just it, Miss Prentice!” wailed the girl, +suddenly bursting into tears. “<i>Who</i> furnishes the money? <i>Why</i> do they +furnish it? Oh, dear! what have I done that I am treated like a colt to +be broken instead of like a girl?”</p> + +<p>Miss Prentice was silenced for the moment. She looked down upon the +girl’s bowed head, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_13" id="pg_13">13</a></span>and upon the young shoulders heaving with sobs, and +a strange expression flitted for the moment across her grim face.</p> + +<p>Perhaps never before had the principal of Higbee School looked into +Nancy’s heart and seen the real tragedy of her young life.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_14" id="pg_14">14</a></span> +<a name="THE_BOY_IN_THE_MILLRACE_442" id="THE_BOY_IN_THE_MILLRACE_442"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>THE BOY IN THE MILLRACE</h3> +</div> + +<p>That summer was much like other summers in Malden. Nancy had been +graduated with some honor; but there was nobody to rejoice with her over +her success. The school had been crowded on the last day with friends +and parents of the other girls; there was not a soul who more than +perfunctorily wished Nancy Nelson “good luck.”</p> + +<p>The neighborhood of Higbee School was very quiet a week after the term +closed. The serving force was greatly reduced; most of the big house was +closed, and all the cottages. Even Miss Prentice, four days after +graduation, started for Europe with a party of teachers, and Miss Trigg +and Nancy were left practically alone.</p> + +<p>But the orphaned girl had something this summer on which to feed her +imagination. She was going to Pinewood Hall. And Pinewood Hall was +exclusive, and on the very top wave of popularity.</p> + +<p>It cost a lot of money to go to that school, Miss Trigg had suggested to +Miss Prentice to <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_15" id="pg_15">15</a></span>remind the lawyer that Nancy would need a more +elaborate outfit of gowns, and Mr. Gordon had sent the extra money for +that purpose without a word of objection.</p> + +<p>The thought had taken root in Nancy’s mind at last that she must be +somebody of importance. At least, she was an heiress. Whether she owned +a single relative, or not, she commanded money. <i>That</i> was something.</p> + +<p>Of course, the other girls at Higbee had always looked down upon her and +considered her “a charity scholar;” but Nancy believed that at Pinewood +Hall she could hold up her head with the best.</p> + +<p>Nobody would know her there. She would begin a fresh page of her +history. She would make the girls love her for herself; it would not +matter there that she had no near relatives. Mr. Henry Gordon, her +guardian, must know all about her, and with regard to this gentleman the +girl had a very grave determination in her mind—a determination which +she did not confide even to Miss Trigg.</p> + +<p>Nancy Nelson meant to see and speak with the lawyer before she went to +Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p>Whether he wanted to or not, Mr. Gordon must tell her something about +herself. If she had relatives living she wanted to know, at least, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_16" id="pg_16">16</a></span><i>why</i> they were ashamed of her. Or, if she was merely the ward of an +estate, she wanted to know what the estate was—and how big it was.</p> + +<p>The girl had thought so much about her equivocal position that her +future troubled her. If there was just enough money to give her a +college education, she wanted to know it. If she must prepare herself +for taking some place at the end of her schooldays in the work-a-day +world, she wanted to know that, too.</p> + +<p>These were practical thoughts for so young a girl; but Nancy Nelson +<i>was</i> practical, despite her imagination.</p> + +<p>She had already looked up Clintondale on the map, and upon the railroad +time-table. It was half a day’s ride east of Malden, and Cincinnati was +one of the points where she changed cars.</p> + +<p>Although she had never traveled by train herself, Nancy had heard the +other girls exchanging experiences, and she knew that she could get a +“stop-over” from the conductor of the train.</p> + +<p>She had seen one of Mr. Gordon’s letters which he had written Miss +Prentice; the principal had shown it to her.</p> + +<p>At that time the girl had memorized the street and number printed at the +top of the lawyer’s stiffly-worded communication. She would never forget +“No. 714 South Wall Street.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_17" id="pg_17">17</a></span><i>That</i> was the one secret Nancy Nelson kept hidden within her heart all +that long summer while she waited with Miss Trigg, the secretary and +general utility teacher, for the return of the principal of Higbee +School and the beginning of her new life.</p> + +<p>Miss Trigg tried to be nice to her; indeed, she <i>was</i> nice to her after +a fashion. But Miss Trigg’s pleasures were between bookcovers; Nancy +Nelson was too healthy a girl not to desire something of a more exciting +nature than Roman history or higher mathematics on a long, hot summer +afternoon.</p> + +<p>That was why she stole away from the deeply absorbed Miss Trigg on one +such occasion late in August, when they had ridden out to Granville Park +to spend an hour or two in the open.</p> + +<p>Granville Park bordered a good-sized pond, dammed at its lower end, +where was an old mill site. An automobile road crossed the bridge that +had been built here; but the mill had not been in commission for years. +It was a quiet and picturesque spot.</p> + +<p>Just above the millrace was a quiet pool under the bank where great, +fragrant water-lilies floated upon the surface. Those lilies always +attracted Nancy. She wished she were a boy. Boys could do so many things +forbidden to girls!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_18" id="pg_18">18</a></span>She longed to strip off her shoes and stockings and wade into the black +water to obtain some of the lilies. She had no idea that, just beyond +the little patch of marine plants, the bottom of the pond fell away +abruptly, and that a current tugged stoutly for the millrace.</p> + +<p>On this particular day, when she had left Miss Trigg reading in her +favorite summer-house high on the rocky hill, and Nancy had tripped +lightly down to the path that skirted the pond’s steep edge, there was a +boy doing just what she had so wished to do herself.</p> + +<p>He was a good-natured looking boy, with plump cheeks and a mass of +light, curly hair that he probably hated, but Nancy thought it made him +look “too cute for anything.”</p> + +<p>He might have been three years her senior, and was a strong, +healthy-looking youth.</p> + +<p>Nancy stopped in the fringe of bushes and watched him. She saw him pluck +several of the long-stemmed beauties, and she wondered, if she showed +herself when he came ashore, he would offer her some.</p> + +<p>Then she became aware of several voices in the neighborhood—girls’ +voices. They seemed to be calling to the boy, for once he lifted his +shining face and shouted something.</p> + +<p>Nancy looked keenly in the direction his eyes <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_19" id="pg_19">19</a></span>took. Through the trees +she saw that an automobile stood on the bridge—or right at its +beginning. The boy belonged to the automobile party. They had spied the +lilies, and he had come down to wade into the pond for them.</p> + +<p>Of course he was getting them for the other girls—he would give none to +Nancy.</p> + +<p>She could see the chauffeur, in his duster and goggles, standing in the +road, too. But the girls who chatted so gaily, and shouted to the boy in +the water, she could not see at all, try her best.</p> + +<p>The lad had now a great bunch of the water-lilies; but the girls above +evidently wanted them all. They encouraged him to wade out farther; +there were some fine ones on the outer edge of the patch.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be afraid!” Nancy heard one shrill-voiced girl call. “What’s the +matter, Bob? Is the water wet?”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right, Goosey!” said the boy. “But you know well enough I +can’t swim. And there’s a hole here——”</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>The boy, lilies and all, suddenly went under! His half-strangled cry did +not reach the ears of those in the automobile. And it was evident that +they could not see the lily patch very well, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_20" id="pg_20">20</a></span>for they were laughing and +chattering without an idea that the boy was in danger.</p> + +<p>He came to the surface in a moment. Nancy had only sprung out upon the +open path. But it was plain he had told the exact truth when he said he +could not swim—and his mouth had been open when he went under that +first time.</p> + +<p>The boy uttered a sobbing cry and went down again. Nancy knew that the +water must be already in his lungs. He was drowning—swiftly and +surely—while the current bore him steadily toward the millrace.</p> + +<p>How could she help him? Nancy could swim—and swim well. Miss Prentice +did not neglect proper outdoor athletics for her girls. She engaged a +swimming instructor at one of the big public baths in Malden for two +afternoons a week all through the school year.</p> + +<p>But the girl very well knew that she could not swim in the swift current +of the race. She could not plunge in and aid the drowning boy.</p> + +<p>Nor was there anything that she could fling to him—anything that would +bear him up until help could come. The bank was so steep and high! For +an instant Nancy could only scream, and her sturdy voice drowned +immediately the chatter and laughter of the girls in the automobile.</p> + +<p>She saw the chauffeur spring down the path <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_21" id="pg_21">21</a></span>toward the bank of the pond +and she ran to meet him. For a second time the boy’s head appeared above +the surface. The hand gripping the great bunch of lilies beat the air; +but Nancy saw that his eyes were wide open and that he seemed to have +recovered his courage.</p> + +<p>Although he could not fight the current, he was trying to get his breath +without swallowing any more water.</p> + +<p>“The boy’ll drown!” gasped the chauffeur, white-faced and helpless.</p> + +<p>Nancy could see the side of the automobile more clearly now. Lashed to +the running-board was an extra tire, fully inflated. She seized the +shaking man by the hand.</p> + +<p>“Get a knife! get a knife!” she commanded. “Haven’t you a knife?”</p> + +<p>“Ye-yes,” he gasped, fumbling in his pocket.</p> + +<p>“Come on!” she ordered, and ran up the path to the road where the +automobile stood.</p> + +<p>He came, opening the knife as he ran. The girls in the car were +shrieking now. Nancy did not even look at them; it is doubtful if they +saw her. She pointed to the tire and the chauffeur understood.</p> + +<p>He started to cut the lashings recklessly; but she stopped him with a +cry. The stout cord was what she wanted. Quickly she looped it around +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_22" id="pg_22">22</a></span>the tire and he seized it and ran back to the pond’s edge.</p> + +<p>The imperiled boy was half-way through the race; the brown current +curled about him, trying to bear him down.</p> + +<p>With a shout the chauffeur threw the tire into the water ahead of the +boy. The latter had sufficient presence of mind to seize it, and the +chauffeur dragged him toward the bank.</p> + +<p>But it was too steep, and the boy was too much exhausted to climb out +without help.</p> + +<p>“You’ll—you’ll have to help me!” gasped the boy in the water.</p> + +<p>But the man could not both cling to the rope and lend the unfortunate +victim of the accident a hand. Nor was there a tree or bush to which he +might tie the rope.</p> + +<p>The boy had hooked one arm over the improvised life-preserver. But his +head had sunk low on his breast. He was almost completely exhausted, and +the current, tugging at his legs, must soon sweep him from his insecure +hold.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_23" id="pg_23">23</a></span> +<a name="ON_THE_WAY_TO_PINEWOOD_672" id="ON_THE_WAY_TO_PINEWOOD_672"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>ON THE WAY TO PINEWOOD</h3> +</div> + +<p>For half a minute Nancy Nelson had been inactive. Her quick mind had +suggested the way the boy in the millrace might be saved; but the +chauffeur of the automobile was the instrument by which the helpless +victim’s course down the current had been retarded.</p> + +<p>But now it looked as though he would be lost, after all. Below the race +the water was most boisterous—and there were many jagged rocks. If he +was drawn through the race he would be seriously injured on the rocks, +if not drowned.</p> + +<p>The bright-minded girl saw all this in those few seconds. She scrambled +down the steep bank, clutching at the chauffeur’s ankle as she went.</p> + +<p>“You’ll have to hold both of us for a minute!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Go ahead! I understand!” he returned, swaying his body back as he clung +to the stout cord, and digging his heels into the bank.</p> + +<p>Nancy hung over the swift current and stretched her right hand down to +the boy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_24" id="pg_24">24</a></span>“Get hold! Grab me!” she called, gaspingly.</p> + +<p>“I—I’ll pull you in,” he replied, in a strangled tone.</p> + +<p>“Do what I tell you!” she cried, angrily.</p> + +<p>She flung herself farther out just as his left arm was unhooked from the +inflated tire. She seized his wrist; he had presence of mind enough to +seize hers in return.</p> + +<p>“Let go of the tire!” she sang out to the chauffeur, and he obeyed.</p> + +<p>He was a strong young man. As the tire went whirling down the stream he +drew them both up the bank—the girl first, clinging with desperation to +the wrist of the half-drowned boy.</p> + +<p>Wet, spattered, with mud, and exhausted, Nancy got a footing on firm +ground once more. The chauffeur grabbed at the boy’s other arm, and he +was quickly lying on the bank, too.</p> + +<p>“It—it almost got me!” gasped the boy.</p> + +<p>His face was streaked with mud, and he was altogether a sorry spectacle. +But through it all he had clung to the bunch of water-lilies.</p> + +<p>“Here! Take ’em!” he panted, thrusting the blooms into Nancy’s hand. +“You—you’re all right! Say! wha-what’s your name——”</p> + +<p>Nancy heard the other girls coming down the path now. The danger was +over and she suddenly realized that she must look a perfect fright.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_25" id="pg_25">25</a></span>“N-never mind! Thanks!” she blurted out, and turning sharply, dashed +into the cover of the thicket and was almost instantly out of sight—out +of sound, as well.</p> + +<p>But she was so excited that she did not think again how she looked until +she appeared before Miss Trigg.</p> + +<p>The short-sighted teacher looked up at her—stared, evidently without +identifying her charge for the moment—and then gave voice.</p> + +<p>“Nancy! Nancy Nelson! Whatever have you been doing to yourself?”</p> + +<p>“I—I——”</p> + +<p>Nancy had already heard the motor get under way. She knew that the boy +and his friends were now out of hearing, or reach.</p> + +<p>“Aren’t these lilies pretty?” she asked, holding out the flowers as a +peace-offering to Miss Trigg.</p> + +<p>“<i>What?</i>” screamed the teacher, getting up nimbly, and backing away from +the mud-bedaubed figure of the girl. “Your feet are wet! Did—did you +<i>dare</i> get into such a mess, just to get those—those <i>weeds</i>?”</p> + +<p>Nancy nodded. It was true. Her bedrabblement had been the forerunner of +the gift of flowers from the boy.</p> + +<p>“Well! of all things!” gasped Miss Trigg.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_26" id="pg_26">26</a></span>“I—I believe you’ve taken leave of your senses. Why—why, whatever +will people think of you, going home? We—we can’t ride in the car. They +wouldn’t let you get on. And I’d be ashamed to be seen with you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! I’m sorry, Miss Trigg,” murmured Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Being sorry won’t take the mud off that dress—or bring a new pair of +stockings—or clean those boots. We’ve got to have a cab—a closed cab. +I wouldn’t go home with you in anything else.”</p> + +<p>“I—I’ll go home alone, Miss Trigg,” said the contrite girl.</p> + +<p>“No! While Miss Prentice is away you shall never again be out of my +sight in waking hours—no, Miss! And for a bunch of weeds!”</p> + +<p>“Oh Miss Trigg! they are <i>so-o</i> pretty——”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you say another word!” commanded the teacher. “And you stand +right here until I can signal a cab on the drive below. There, there’s +one now!”</p> + +<p>The teacher burst through the bushes and waved madly to a taxi rolling +slowly along the macadam below the hill. The driver saw her and stopped.</p> + +<p>“Come!” spoke Miss Trigg. “Here! give me those—those <i>things</i>.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_27" id="pg_27">27</a></span>She snatched the lilies from Nancy’s hand and flung them in the path. +The girl looked back at them longingly; but she thought it best to +trifle with the teacher no further.</p> + +<p>So she followed slowly the gaunt, angry woman down the steep path, and +only the memory of the boy’s gift remained with her through the rest of +the days of that last vacation at Higbee School.</p> + +<p>Nancy was in disgrace with Miss Trigg, and was very lonely. She wondered +who the boy was—and where he lived—and who the girls were with +him—and if he had suffered any bad result from his adventure.</p> + +<p>Above all, she wondered if she should ever see him again.</p> + +<p>But that was not likely. Miss Prentice came home in a week, and in +another week the school would open.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon had sent the ticket for Nancy’s fare to Clintondale. Her +modest trunk was packed. Miss Prentice bade her a perfunctory good-bye. +It was a cold farewell, indeed, to the only home the girl could remember +and in which she had lived for at least three-quarters of her life.</p> + +<p>But as the cab which was to take her to the railway station was about to +start, Miss Trigg hurried out. She had scarcely recovered from <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_28" id="pg_28">28</a></span>the +shock of Nancy’s adventure at the millpond; but after all there was a +spark of human feeling deep down in the teacher’s heart.</p> + +<p>“I—I hope you’ll do well, Nancy,” she stammered. “Do—<i>do</i> keep up well +in your studies and be a credit to us. And for mercy’s sake don’t +venture into a pond again after nasty weeds. It’s not—not ladylike.”</p> + +<p>Nancy thought she was going to kiss her. But it had been a long time +since Miss Trigg had kissed anybody, and it is doubtful if she really +knew how. So she thought better of it, shook hands with Nancy in a +mannish way, turned abruptly, and stalked back into the house.</p> + +<p>The taxi rolled away, and Nancy winked back the tears. It was not hard. +After all, the orphan girl was leaving nothing behind that she really +<i>loved</i>.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_29" id="pg_29">29</a></span> +<a name="BEARDING_THE_LION_830" id="BEARDING_THE_LION_830"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>BEARDING THE LION</h3> +</div> + +<p>Nancy Nelson’s hopes ran high. She was going out into a new world—the +world of Pinewood Hall. The girls would all be strangers to her there; +not one of them would know her history—or, rather, her lack of a +history.</p> + +<p>But as to the latter, the girl was determined to learn all there was to +know about herself before she arrived at Pinewood.</p> + +<p>In two hours the train would be in Cincinnati. She had but half an +hour—or less—to wait for the train on the other road to Clintondale. +But she had studied the time-table and she knew that, by waiting four +hours in Cincinnati, she could get another train to her destination.</p> + +<p>She was to telegraph back to Miss Prentice when she arrived at +Cincinnati. At the same time she was supposed to telegraph ahead to the +principal of Pinewood Hall,—Madame Schakael. This had all been arranged +beforehand; Nancy had been thoroughly instructed by Miss Prentice.</p> + +<p>But the girl had made up her mind not to send <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_30" id="pg_30">30</a></span>the dispatch on to +Pinewood Hall until she was ready to leave Cincinnati. There should be +no telegraphing back and forth between the two schoolmistresses if she +could help it.</p> + +<p>In the interim Nancy proposed to find Mr. Gordon’s office and have the +long-wished-for interview with the man whom she called her guardian. All +the guardians she had ever read of seemed to have a much deeper interest +in their wards than this lawyer had shown in her.</p> + +<p>The cab driver checked her trunk and then spoke a word to the conductor +of the train that would take the girl to Cincinnati. But Nancy felt +quite independent and “grown up.”</p> + +<p>She asked the conductor about stopping over at the big city until the +later train and he assured her that she would need no stop-over check +for that. She spent a good part of the time until she got to Cincinnati +inventing speeches which she would make to Mr. Gordon when she reached +his office.</p> + +<p>She filed the telegram to Miss Prentice as soon as she got off the +train; then she checked her handbag at the parcel counter and walked out +of the station.</p> + +<p>Of course, she had no idea in which direction South Wall Street lay; but +she knew a policeman when she saw one, and believed those minions of the +law to be fountains of information.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_31" id="pg_31">31</a></span>She told the officer exactly what she wanted to do—to go to the +lawyer’s office and return to the station in time for the afternoon +train to Clintondale.</p> + +<p>“It’s quite a little walk, Miss, and you might get turned around. +Suppose I put you into a taxi and take the man’s number, and he can +bring you back, if you like?”</p> + +<p>Nancy had some few dollars in her pocketbook; but she was careful to +have the policeman estimate the cost of her cab-ride, which he kindly +did. She would have sufficient to pay for this, and a luncheon, as well, +if she got back in season. So the girl bravely entered the taxi-cab and +was whirled through the unfamiliar streets to the lawyer’s office.</p> + +<p>Then she began to quake. She was to beard a lion in his den—and she +knew very little about lions!</p> + +<p>Number 714 South Wall Street was a big office building; there were, too, +taxis passing all the time; so Nancy paid off her chauffeur and entered +the building with more boldness in her carriage than she really felt in +her heart.</p> + +<p>She was studying the building directory when the hall-man came to her +assistance.</p> + +<p>“Who are you looking for, Miss?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Henry Gordon.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_32" id="pg_32">32</a></span>“Gordon? Is that Gordon & Craig, architects?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gordon is a lawyer.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! That’s Mr. Gordon, of Ambrose, Necker & Boles. Twelve-forty-four. +This way, Miss. Number 6—going up!”</p> + +<p>She was hustled into the elevator with a crowd of other people and the +car almost immediately began to ascend.</p> + +<p>“Floor! Floor!” the boy who manipulated the lever kept calling, and the +passengers began to thin out rapidly after the fourth floor was passed.</p> + +<p>“What floor, Miss?” he snapped at her.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gordon,” stammered Nancy, more than a little confused by the rush +of it all. “Twelve-forty-four, the—the gentleman said.”</p> + +<p>“Twelfth! Here you are!” and the car stopped with a jerk while the boy +opened the sliding door with a flourish.</p> + +<p>“Forty-four, to the right!” advised the youth, and immediately the car +shot up the well out of sight.</p> + +<p>The clang of the cage-door echoed through the empty corridor. There were +rows of doors, with ground-glass panes, all painted in black or gold +with the name of firms, or with the single word, “<i>Private.</i>”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_33" id="pg_33">33</a></span>For a minute Nancy hesitated. Somehow, her ears rang and she had to +wink fast to keep back the tears. Yet it was merely nervousness. She +knew of no reason why she should be frightened.</p> + +<p>Surely her guardian must wish to see her! He probably was a very busy +man—perhaps a man without a family. Maybe he lived at a hotel where he +could not have his ward come to see him. That was why she had had to +spend her vacations heretofore at Malden. Nancy thought of these things, +and began to take courage.</p> + +<p>She glanced along the corridor. “To the right,” the elevator boy had +said. She took a few uncertain steps and came opposite Room 1231. Room +1244 must be near.</p> + +<p>She persevered, walking almost on tiptoe so as not to awaken the echoes +of the lofty corridor, and quickly came before the door numbered 1244. +Stenciled upon it was the firm name: “Ambrose, Necker & Boles, +Attorneys.”</p> + +<p>There was nothing about Mr. Gordon. His name did not appear, and she was +not sure now that she had reached the goal.</p> + +<p>She turned the knob with a flutter at her heart, and stepped into the +office. She found herself immediately in a sort of fenced-off stall, +with a glass partition on one hand, through which she <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_34" id="pg_34">34</a></span>saw many desks +and typewriter tables, at which a score of men and girls were busy.</p> + +<p>Directly before her, however, was a gate in the railing and beside the +gate—and evidently the Cerberus of the way—was a small, thin boy +sitting at a small desk, with his legs wound around his chair legs like +immature pythons with blue worsted bodies.</p> + +<p>He was supposed to be doing something with a pile of papers and long +envelopes; but the truth was he had rigged, with rubber bands, a +closely-printed, “smootchy” looking paper-backed storybook before him on +the desk, so that on the instant Nancy approached, the rubbers snapped +the book back under the desk lid out of sight.</p> + +<p>He looked up with little, red-lidded eyes, grinning queerly at her.</p> + +<p>“Gee!” he gasped under his breath. “I thought it was the boss.” Then +aloud he demanded, with hauteur: “Who do you wish to see, lady?”</p> + +<p>Now Nancy had not been used to being addressed in so cavalier a manner, +and for a moment she did not know how to reply. But in that moment she +took a mental picture of the boy that she was not likely to forget.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:369px"> +<a name="illus-001" id="illus-001"></a> +<img src="images/illus-002.jpg" alt=""What are you doing here? Have you run away?" _Page 39._" title="" width="369" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"What are you doing here? Have you run away?" _Page 39._</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_35" id="pg_35">35</a></span>Besides being diminutive and fleshless, his features were very small +and very, very sharp. The generous hand of Nature had sprinkled freckles +across his nose. He had lost a front tooth, which fact made his smile +perfectly “open.”</p> + +<p>His watery blue eyes twinkled with mischief. His grin wrinkled up his +preternaturally old face in a most remarkable way. His shock of hair was +flame-colored—and exactly matched the tie he wore.</p> + +<p>“Say!” this youngster said. “You’ll know me again; eh? My name’s +‘Scorch’ O’Brien. What’s yours?”</p> + +<p>“I—I’m Nancy Nelson,” confessed the girl, but beginning to smile at him +now. He <i>was</i> too funny for anything. “And I’ve come to see Mr. Gordon.”</p> + +<p>“Not Old Gudgeon? He never had a lady come to see him before,” announced +the office boy, explosively. “Sure it’s him you want?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Henry Gordon,” declared Nancy, in some doubt.</p> + +<p>“Henery is his front name,” admitted Scorch, rumpling his red top-knot. +“But I guess I’d better ask first if he’ll have you in.”</p> + +<p>“Just tell him it’s me, please,” said Nancy, faintly.</p> + +<p>“What did you say the name was, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“Nancy Nelson. He’ll know. I’m his ward.”</p> + +<p>“Aw, no! You ain’t?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_36" id="pg_36">36</a></span>“Yes, I am,” said Nancy, nodding.</p> + +<p>“Never knowed he had one. So he is yer guardeen?” grunted the red-haired +boy, unwinding his legs.</p> + +<p>The girl thought she had chatted quite enough with this very bold youth, +so made no further reply.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t he the sly one?” proceeded “Scorch” O’Brien, shaking his head. +“Him a guardeen—an’ I never knowed it before.”</p> + +<p>Evidently the fact that anything of such moment had escaped him rasped +the temper of the boy. He went off muttering, and came back again, in a +minute, grinning.</p> + +<p>“Say! he must have robbed you of the estate. It sure scared him when I +announced your name. Never seen him turn a hair before; but he wasn’t +looking for no ‘Nancy Nelson’ ter come up and confront him like this.”</p> + +<p>Nancy, rather offended at this “fresh” youth, swept by him through the +gateway and approached the door to which she had seen the flame-haired +“Scorch” go in his quest of Mr. Gordon.</p> + +<p>Yes! “Mr. Henry Gordon” was painted upon the door. She opened it slowly +and looked in.</p> + +<p>There was a great, broad table-desk, piled high with books and papers—a +veritable wilderness of <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_37" id="pg_37">37</a></span>books and papers. In a broad armchair, with his +back to the door, sat “Old Gudgeon,” as “Scorch” had disrespectfully +called Mr. Henry Gordon.</p> + +<p>He was as broad as his chair. Indeed, he seemed to have been forced into +it between the arms, by hydraulic pressure. Nancy did not see how he +ever <i>could</i> get out of it!</p> + +<p>He had enormous shoulders, fairly “humped” with layers of fat. His head +was thrust forward as he wrote, and his shaven neck was pink, and bare, +and overlapped his collar in a most astonishing way.</p> + +<p>“Ahem!” said Nancy, clearing her throat a little. She had come inside +and closed the door, and it seemed that Mr. Gordon was giving her no +attention.</p> + +<p>Then she chanced to look up and, on the wall beyond the desk, was a +broad mirror tilted so that the lawyer needed but to raise his eyes to +see reflected in the glass all that went on behind him.</p> + +<p>And in that glass Nancy got her first glimpse of Henry Gordon’s face.</p> + +<p>It was really something more than a glimpse. The lawyer was evidently +staring at her—had been doing so for some seconds. His great, broad, +unwrinkled countenance seemed to have paled on her first appearance, for +now the color was washing <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_38" id="pg_38">38</a></span>back into it in a wave of faint pink—a ruddy +hue that was natural to so full-bodied a man.</p> + +<p>“Come here, girl!”</p> + +<p>The voice that rumbled out of Mr. Gordon’s throat was commensurate with +his bulk. He slowly turned his chair upon its pivot. Trembling, Nancy +made her way across the rug to the corner of his desk.</p> + +<p>All of a sudden every bit of courage she had plucked up, was swept away. +She felt a queer emptiness within her. And in her throat a lump had +risen so big that she could not swallow.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_39" id="pg_39">39</a></span> +<a name="NANCYS_CURIOUS_EXPERIENCE_1091" id="NANCYS_CURIOUS_EXPERIENCE_1091"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>NANCY’S CURIOUS EXPERIENCE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Mr. Gordon’s eyes were brown. They were heavy-lidded so that Nancy could +see very little of their expression. He was a smoothly-shaven man and +his thick lips seemed grim.</p> + +<p>“You—you are the girl?” demanded the lawyer.</p> + +<p>“Yes—yes, sir,” she said. “I’m Nancy Nelson.”</p> + +<p>“What are you doing here? Have you run away?” he shot at her, +accentuating the query with a pointed forefinger.</p> + +<p>Afterward she realized that that impaling index finger was a gesture of +habit—it was his way of “spearing” witnesses in court when they were +under fire.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” replied Nancy, with more confidence.</p> + +<p>“How do you come here, then?”</p> + +<p>“I am on my way to Clintondale.”</p> + +<p>“Clintondale?”</p> + +<p>“Pinewood Hall, you know. There—there is a four-hour wait here at +Cincinnati, you know.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_40" id="pg_40">40</a></span>“I did <i>not</i> know,” he rumbled forth. Then, like a flash, he demanded: +“Who sent you here?”</p> + +<p>This question took the last breath of wind out of Nancy’s sails. She +had, through it all, believed that he might be glad to see her. But now +she realized that the opposite was the truth.</p> + +<p>“Nobody sent me,” she stammered.</p> + +<p>“Not the woman at the other school—Miss—Miss Prentice?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. She does not know. I—I just wanted to see you.”</p> + +<p>“What for?” he asked, in the same sudden, gruff way.</p> + +<p>“I—I thought you might want to see <i>me</i>, too,” she hedged. “You—you +know guardians usually <i>do</i> want to see their wards.”</p> + +<p>“Ha! who told you that I was your guardian?”</p> + +<p>“No—no one; but you are, sir?” she questioned, fearfully.</p> + +<p>“No, Miss. I am not.”</p> + +<p>“Then—then you only <i>act</i> for my guardian?”</p> + +<p>He looked straight at her, and steadily, for several moments, without +speaking. Nancy could learn nothing from his expression.</p> + +<p>“I do not know that, legally speaking or otherwise, you have a +guardian,” he finally said.</p> + +<p>“But—but——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_41" id="pg_41">41</a></span>“Money passes through my hands for your support and schooling. That is +all I can tell you. I am <i>not</i> your guardian.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but surely!” cried the greatly perturbed girl, “you know something +about me?”</p> + +<p>“I know what your teachers have reported. They say you are fairly +intelligent, remarkably healthy, and quite obedient.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, sir!”</p> + +<p>“I consider <i>this</i> a flagrant case of disobedience. Don’t let it happen +again,” pursued Mr. Gordon, sternly.</p> + +<p>“But, sir! I cannot help it,” cried poor Nancy, the tears now beginning +to flow. “I feel sometimes as though I couldn’t <i>live</i> unless I learned +something about myself—who I am—who my folks were—why I am being +educated—who is paying for it, and all——”</p> + +<p>“You would better smother your curiosity,” interrupted Mr. Gordon, the +fat fingers of one hand playing a noiseless tattoo upon the edge of his +desk. “I can tell you nothing.”</p> + +<p>“You are forbidden to tell?” gasped the girl.</p> + +<p>“I know nothing, therefore I cannot tell. You came to me +anonymously—that is, your identity aside from the name you bear was +unknown to me. The money which supports you comes to me anonymously.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_42" id="pg_42">42</a></span>“Oh!” The girl’s real pain and disappointment were evident even to the +case-hardened lawyer. He was silent while she sobbed with her eyes +against her coat-sleeve. But no change of expression came into the face +that, for long years, he had trained to hide emotion before juries and +witnesses.</p> + +<p>“I might have refused the task set me years ago when—when I introduced +you into Miss Prentice’s school,” he said, at last. “I might have gone +to the authorities and handed you over to them—money and all. To what +end? I was assured that no further money would be devoted to your +up-keep and education. You would then have had no better chance than +that of any foundling in a public charitable institution. Not so nice; +eh?”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” exclaimed the girl again, looking at him now through her tears.</p> + +<p>“So I accepted the responsibility—as I accept many responsibilities in +the way of business. It is nothing personal to me. I am paid a certain +sum for handling the money devoted to your support. That is all.”</p> + +<p>The girl asked a strange question—strange for one so young, at least. +The thought had stabbed her like a knife:</p> + +<p>“What would you do if I should die? How <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_43" id="pg_43">43</a></span>would you tell those—those who +send the money?”</p> + +<p>If the lawyer hesitated it was but for a moment. And his huge face was a +veritable mask.</p> + +<p>“I should advertise in the personal column of a certain metropolitan +newspaper—that is all,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“Then—then I’m just nobody, after all?” sighed the girl, wiping her +eyes.</p> + +<p>“Why—why—I wouldn’t say that!” and for the first time a little human +note came into Mr. Gordon’s voice, and his pink face seemed to become +less grim.</p> + +<p>“But that’s what I <i>am</i>—Miss Nobody from Nowhere. I had no friends at +Higbee School because of it; I’ll have no standing at Pinewood Hall, +either.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! nonsense!” ejaculated Mr. Gordon, tapping his desk again.</p> + +<p>“Girls who have homes—and folks—don’t want to associate with girls who +come from nowhere and don’t know anything about themselves.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well! That’s a thought that had never entered my mind,” said the +lawyer, more to himself than to Nancy.</p> + +<p>“You see how it is, sir. I thought there might be an estate, maybe. I +thought maybe that, as <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_44" id="pg_44">44</a></span>so much money was being spent for me—I might be +of some importance somewhere——”</p> + +<p>“Ha!” exclaimed the lawyer, still staring at her.</p> + +<p>“But now you say there’s nobody—and nothing. Just money comes—comes +out of the air for me. And you pass it on. Oh, dear me! it’s very +mysterious, sir.”</p> + +<p>He said nothing, but still looked at her.</p> + +<p>“And you’re not even my guardian! I hoped when I went to Pinewood and +the girls began to get curious, I could talk about you,” confessed +Nancy, plaintively. “I thought maybe, if you even weren’t married——”</p> + +<p>“Ahem! I am <i>not</i> married,” said the lawyer, quickly.</p> + +<p>“But, then, if you were truly my guardian, I might come and see you +once—or you could come to the school and see me,” pursued the girl, +wistfully. “But now—now there’s nothing—absolutely nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Now there’s nothing,” repeated Mr. Gordon, uncompromisingly.</p> + +<p>“And the girls at Pinewood Hall will be just like those at Higbee,” +sighed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“How’s that?” demanded Mr. Gordon.</p> + +<p>“They won’t want to associate with me—much. Their mothers won’t let +them invite me home. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_45" id="pg_45">45</a></span>For I am a nobody. I heard one lady tell Miss +Prentice once that one never knew what might happen if one allowed one’s +girls to associate with girls who had no family. Of course not. I +couldn’t blame ’em.”</p> + +<p>“Ha!” ejaculated Mr. Gordon again.</p> + +<p>“You see, my people might have been dreadful criminals—or something,” +went on Nancy. “It might all come out some day,—and then nice people +wouldn’t want their girls to have been associated with me.”</p> + +<p>“Ha!” repeated the lawyer.</p> + +<p>“You see how it is; don’t you?” explained Nancy, softly. “Miss Prentice +would not let the girls write home about me. And when they learned last +June that I was going to Pinewood they all thought my folks must really +be rich. So <i>that</i> was all right.</p> + +<p>“But I thought if I could see you, you would tell me all there was to +know about myself—and my people; and that maybe I could talk about my +guardian and make it all right with those new girls.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve told you all I know,” said Mr. Gordon, almost sullenly, it seemed.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, I—I guess I’ll be going,” said Nancy, faintly, and turning +from the desk. “I—I’m sorry I bothered you, sir.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_46" id="pg_46">46</a></span>“Where are you going?” demanded the lawyer.</p> + +<p>“Why—why, to Clintondale, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Ha! I’ll make sure that you get on the right train, at any rate,” he +said, and pressed a button under the edge of his desk. “Have you had +your luncheon?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Not yet.”</p> + +<p>He plucked a ten-dollar note out of his vest pocket and thrust it into +her hand. “Get your luncheon.” The door opened and the red-headed boy +looked in. “Pay for ‘Scorch’s’ luncheon, too.”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es, sir,” said Nancy, faintly.</p> + +<p>“Scorch!” commanded Mr. Gordon.</p> + +<p>“Yessir!” snapped the office boy.</p> + +<p>“It’s about your lunch hour?”</p> + +<p>“Yessir!”</p> + +<p>“Take—take Miss Nancy Nelson to Arrandale’s. Afterward take her to the +station and put her aboard the right train for Clintondale. Understand?”</p> + +<p>“Yessir!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon wheeled back to his desk. He did not even say good-bye to +Nancy as Scorch held the door open for her to pass out.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_47" id="pg_47">47</a></span> +<a name="THE_UNRIVALED_SCORCH_1331" id="THE_UNRIVALED_SCORCH_1331"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE UNRIVALED SCORCH</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Say! ain’t Old Gudgeon a good one?” murmured the red-headed boy, as he +followed Nancy to the gate.</p> + +<p>She did not answer. That lump had come back into her throat and she was +industriously swallowing it. It seemed to her just then as though it +would never be possible for her to eat luncheon at Arrandale’s,—wherever +that might be.</p> + +<p>Scorch caught up his cap and hustled her out of the gate, and out of the +main office door, and whistled shrilly to an elevator that was just +shooting down.</p> + +<p>“Come on, Nancy!” he said, with immense patronage. “We’ll have a swell +dinner and it takes time to do it. When does your train get away?”</p> + +<p>She managed to tell him.</p> + +<p>“Golly! we are all right, then. We can talk over the eats, an’ you can +tell me your troubles and I’ll relate the story of my life to you—eh?”</p> + +<p>The girl tried to smile at him, for she realized <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_48" id="pg_48">48</a></span>that his chatter was +kept up partly for the purpose of covering her disappointment. But Nancy +was no baby-girl; by the time the elevator reached the lower floor of +the building she had winked back her tears and the ache had gone out of +her throat.</p> + +<p>“This way, Nancy,” said her conductor, cheerfully rushing her through +the revolving door to the sidewalk. “There’s Arrandale’s over yonder. If +I’d known I was going to eat at such a swell place to-day I’d have worn +my glad rags—good duds, you know.”</p> + +<p>“You—you look all right,” returned Nancy, smiling, for the red-headed +boy did indeed have a neat appearance. Somebody took pains to make him +spruce when he started for the office in the morning. “I guess you’ve +got some folks?” she questioned.</p> + +<p>“Sure. My mother scrubs out the offices. That’s how I come by my job. My +big sister keeps house for us, an’ the kids are in school. Yes! there’s +folks enough belonging to me. But my father is dead.”</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know anything about my father or mother—or any of my +folks.”</p> + +<p>“No! Don’t old Gordon know?”</p> + +<p>“He says not.”</p> + +<p>“And he’s your guardeen?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_49" id="pg_49">49</a></span>Nancy was silent for a moment. But she was a perfectly honest girl and +she knew she was allowing Scorch to gain a wrong impression.</p> + +<p>“He—he isn’t my guardian,” she blurted out as they crossed the street.</p> + +<p>“Hey? I thought you said he was!”</p> + +<p>“And I thought so, then. This is the first time I ever saw him. He says +he is not my guardian and that he doesn’t know anything about me. He +only has money sent to him to spend for me.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean it?” cried Scorch, his eyes twinkling. “That’s like a +story; ain’t it? You’re the mysterious heiress who doesn’t know who she +is. That’s great!”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so?” demanded Nancy, rather warmly. “Well, let me tell you +it isn’t nice at all.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” demanded the romance-loving youth.</p> + +<p>“Why.... The girls at school think it’s so odd. I’m just Miss Nobody +from Nowhere. And they’ve all got folks.”</p> + +<p>“Gee!” observed Scorch, getting a new idea of the situation.</p> + +<p>They reached the door of the fashionable restaurant and Scorch led the +way in with characteristic <i>sang froid</i>. He would have approached <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_50" id="pg_50">50</a></span>a +king or an emperor with perfect ease. Nothing ever “feazed” him, as he +was wont to boast.</p> + +<p>The head-waiter looked a little askance at the red-headed office boy; +but Nancy, in her neat outfit, reassured him, and he led them to a table +and drew out the chair for the girl.</p> + +<p>“Bring us a couple of time-tables so we can pick our eats,” ordered +Scorch.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” commanded Nancy, blushing a little. “Other people will hear +you.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what I talk for,” declared the unabashed boy.</p> + +<p>“Well, now you’re going to be a real nice boy while you’re with me; +aren’t you? They might take you for my brother, and I wouldn’t want to +be ashamed of your manners.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a hot one!” observed Scorch, admiringly. “You’re not so slow +after all, Nancy.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Miss</i> Nancy, please,” corrected the girl, smiling at him.</p> + +<p>“Say! but you are particular.”</p> + +<p>“I believe you know how to conduct yourself much better than you +appear,” said the girl, looking at him seriously.</p> + +<p>“Discovered!” mocked the red-haired one, grinning. “But it’s hard work +to be proper.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“Because of my hair.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_51" id="pg_51">51</a></span>“Your hair?”</p> + +<p>“Yep.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see what—what light-colored hair has to do with your manners,” +confessed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“‘Light-colored’—I like that!” exclaimed Scorch. “Trying to let me down +easy—eh?”</p> + +<p>“We-ell——”</p> + +<p>“It’s red. Say! nobody’s ever let me forget it since I could creep,” +declared the boy. “I useter lick all the boys I could at Number Six +school, an’ those that I couldn’t lick I throwed stones at. For calling +my hair out o’ name, I mean.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose being red-headed <i>is</i> hard,” commented Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Say! bein’ an heiress without no folks ain’t in it with being a +carrot-top,” said Scorch, grinning.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think so?”</p> + +<p>“The folks in the office began getting fresh right away,” went on the +boy, earnestly. “Some of the girls that run the typewriters was as bad +as the Willy-boys, too. They’d come up and try warming their hands over +my head, an’ all those back-number jokes.</p> + +<p>“So I had ter give ’em better than they sent, or they’d have put it all +over me. Men that come in to see the boss, or Old Gordon, or the others, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_52" id="pg_52">52</a></span>see my fiery top-knot, and they try to crack jokes on me. So I have to +crack a few.</p> + +<p>“So that’s why I act so fresh. Natcherly I’m as tame as though I wore a +velvet jacket and curls; it’s just havin’ to defend myself, that’s made +me what I am,” declared Scorch, shaking his head, mournfully, as he +prepared to eat his soup with much gusto.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t!” begged Nancy. “Don’t make so much noise.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so! I was thinkin’ I was at Joe’s, where I us’lly feeds,” and +the boy proceeded to use his spoon with a proper regard for the niceties +of the table.</p> + +<p>“There! I knew very well you knew how,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“But it hurts!” exclaimed Scorch, with a wicked grin.</p> + +<p>“And that is never your real name?” asked Nancy, after a moment.</p> + +<p>“‘Scorch’?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. It refers to your hair, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a clairvoyant, lady,” said the boy. “I gotter real, sure-’nuff +name. But I forget it. My mother don’t even remember it any more. But +‘Scorch’ don’t just mean my color. It’s because I’m some scorcher,” +proceeded the boy, with pride.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_53" id="pg_53">53</a></span>“There weren’t any kids my size or age could outrun me at school—nix! +and I won a medal when I worked for the District Telegraph Company. I +was the one fast kid that ever rushed flimsies.”</p> + +<p>“What’s <i>that</i>?” demanded Nancy, in wonder.</p> + +<p>“Carried telegrams. But I couldn’t stop there. The other kids pounded +the life pretty near out of me,” he said, with perfect seriousness.</p> + +<p>“Oh! why were they so mean?”</p> + +<p>“’Cause I set ’em all a pace that they couldn’t keep up with. So they +fired me out of the union, and then the boss fired me because I was +always all marred up from fighting the other kids. So I come to work at +that law shop.”</p> + +<p>Under advice from the knowing Scorch, Nancy had ordered the very nicest +little luncheon she had ever eaten. And the boy gave evidence of +enjoying it even more than she did.</p> + +<p>Indeed, her appetite was soon satisfied; but Scorch kept her answering +questions about herself; and soon she found that she was being quite as +confidential with this red-headed office boy as she ever had been with +anybody in her life.</p> + +<p>“Say! did it ever strike you that Old Gordon might be stringing you?” +demanded Scorch.</p> + +<p>His slang puzzled the girl not a little; but the red-headed one +explained:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_54" id="pg_54">54</a></span>“Suppose he <i>did</i> know all about you and your folks—only he didn’t +want to tell?”</p> + +<p>“But <i>why</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ain’t you green?” demanded Scorch. “Don’t you see he might be +making money out of you? Mebbe there’s a pile of money, and he’s using +only a little for you and putting the rest of it in his pocket?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t believe Mr. Gordon would do such an awful thing,” gasped +Nancy, shaking her head vigorously.</p> + +<p>“Well, they do it to heiresses in stories,” returned Scorch, doggedly. +“And worse.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t believe it.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right—that’s all right,” said the boy. “You’re not supposed +to believe it. You’re the heroine; they never believe anything but +what’s all nice and proper,” urged Scorch. “You lemme alone. I’m goin’ +to watch Gordon. If he’s up to something foxy, I’ll find it out. Then +I’ll write to you. Say! where’s this jail they’re goin’ to put you in?”</p> + +<p>“It’s no jail,” laughed Nancy, immensely amused, after all, by this +romantic and slangy youth. “It’s a beautiful school. It’s Pinewood Hall. +It’s at Clintondale, on Clinton River. And it’s very select.”</p> + +<p>“It’s what?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_55" id="pg_55">55</a></span>“Select. It costs a lot of money to go there. The girls are very nice.”</p> + +<p>“All right. You can get a letter, just the same; can’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Why—I suppose so. I—I never <i>did</i> receive a letter—not one.”</p> + +<p>“All right. You’ll get one from me,” promised Scorch, with assurance. +“If I find out anything about Old Gordon that looks like we was on his +trail, I’ll let you know.”</p> + +<p>“That’s very nice of you,” replied Nancy, demurely, but quite amused. +“Now, have you finished, Scorch?”</p> + +<p>“Full up,” declared the youngster. “The gangplank’s ashore and we’re +ready to sail—if we ain’t overloaded,” and he got up from his chair +with apparent difficulty.</p> + +<p>Nancy had paid the bill and tipped the waiter. She had a good bit of the +ten dollars left to slip back in her pocketbook; but she reserved a +crisp dollar-bill where it would be handy.</p> + +<p>They had plenty of time to walk to the station, and Nancy was glad to do +this. Besides, Scorch declared he needed the exercise.</p> + +<p>The red-headed boy was a mixture of good-heartedness and mischievousness +that both delighted Nancy and horrified her. He was saucy to policemen, +truckmen, and anybody who undertook <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_56" id="pg_56">56</a></span>to treat him carelessly on the +street. But he aided his charge very carefully over all the crossings, +and once ran back into the middle of the street and held up traffic to +pick up an old woman’s parcel.</p> + +<p>They came to the station, got Nancy’s bag, and Scorch insisted upon +taking her to the very step of the car. When she shook hands with him +Nancy had the banknote ready and she left it in his hand.</p> + +<p>Before she got up the steps, however, he ran back, pushed aside the +brakeman, and reached her.</p> + +<p>“Say! you can’t do that,” he gasped, his face as red as his hair.</p> + +<p>“Do what?” demanded the girl.</p> + +<p>“You can’t tip <i>me</i>. Say! I ain’t the waiter—nor the janitor of the +flat. I’m the hero—and the heroine never tips the hero—nix on that!”</p> + +<p>The next moment he had thrust the dollar-bill into her hand, jumped down +to the platform, and scuttled through the crowd, leaving Nancy with the +feeling that she had offended a friend.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_57" id="pg_57">57</a></span> +<a name="FIRST_IMPRESSIONS_1623" id="FIRST_IMPRESSIONS_1623"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>FIRST IMPRESSIONS</h3> +</div> + +<p>When the train pulled out of the station Nancy Nelson noticed for the +first time that the sky had become overcast and the clouds threatened +rain. Scorch O’Brien, the odd new friend she had made, was so sprightly +a soul that she really had not observed the change in the weather.</p> + +<p>“Oh! I’d like to have a brother like him,” she thought. “I don’t care if +he <i>is</i> slangy—and fresh. I guess he wouldn’t be so if—as he +says—everybody didn’t try to poke fun at his red hair. And how homely +he is!”</p> + +<p>She smiled happily over some of Scorch’s sayings and his impish doings; +so they were some miles on the journey before she began to look about +the car.</p> + +<p>Her ticket had called for a chair in the parlor-car; and she immediately +discovered that she was not the only girl who seemed to be traveling +alone.</p> + +<p>At least there were half a dozen girls not far from her own age who were +chattering together some distance forward of her seat. When the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_58" id="pg_58">58</a></span>conductor came along he smiled down upon Nancy and asked, as he punched +her ticket:</p> + +<p>“You going to Pinewood, too?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Your first term there?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then you don’t know these other girls?” and he nodded to the group +further up the car.</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Are <i>they</i> going there, too?” asked Nancy, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I’ve been carrying a lot of them to Clintondale this week. The +Hall opens day after to-morrow. Anybody to meet you, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“I telegraphed on from Cincinnati,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right, then. One of the ’bus men will be on the lookout for +you.”</p> + +<p>“But are those all new girls, too?” asked Nancy, earnestly, as the +conductor was about to pass on.</p> + +<p>“No. But most of them have been there only one term. That tall girl is +named Montgomery. Her father’s a State Senator—guess you’ve heard of +Senator Montgomery? Go up and speak to them,” and the conductor passed +on.</p> + +<p>But Nancy did not have the courage to take his advice. She, however, +observed the girls with renewed interest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_59" id="pg_59">59</a></span>The tall one—the Montgomery girl—was very richly dressed, and she +seemed to think a good deal of what she wore. She was always arranging +her gown, and looking in the glass to see if her hat was on +straight—and occasionally Nancy caught her powdering her nose.</p> + +<p>There was a black-haired girl, too, with very sharp eyes and a lean +face, who laughed whenever the Montgomery girl said anything supposed to +be funny, and seemed to ape the Senator’s daughter in other ways, too. +The other girls called her “Cora.”</p> + +<p>Once Nancy went forward to get a drink of water. She passed the group of +her future schoolmates slowly, hoping that some of them would speak to +her. But none did, and when she came back down the aisle, the tall girl +eyed her with disdain.</p> + +<p>Nancy flushed and hurried by; but not too quickly to hear the Montgomery +girl say:</p> + +<p>“Trying to butt in, I guess.”</p> + +<p>The girl called Cora laughed shrilly.</p> + +<p>“I guess I’m not going to like <i>those</i> girls,” sighed Nancy. And then +she shivered as she thought of how mean they might be if they ever found +out that she was “Miss Nobody from Nowhere.”</p> + +<p>The rain began to slant across the open fields <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_60" id="pg_60">60</a></span>and trace a pattern upon +the broad, thick, glass beside her so that she could no longer see out. +Besides, it was growing dark early.</p> + +<p>The train passed through towns that seemed all gloomy, smoky brick +buildings, or shanties clinging like goats to the sides of high bluffs. +A pall of dun vapor hung over these towns, and the lonely Nancy was glad +when the train did not stop.</p> + +<p>Sometimes they dashed into a tunnel, and a cloud of stifling smoke +wrapped the cars about and the cinders rattled against the ventilators +and roof.</p> + +<p>On and on swept the train, and at last the brakeman, as they left one +station, announced:</p> + +<p>“Next stop Clintondale!”</p> + +<p>Nancy began to gather her things together and put on her coat long +before the train slowed down. Then the other girls got ready leisurely, +still chatting.</p> + +<p>The rain beat harder against the window. It was after seven o’clock. +They passed a block-tower with its lights and semaphore. Then the +grinding brakes warned her that her destination was at hand.</p> + +<p>The end of the wet platform flashed into view. There were dazzling +lights, rumbling hand-trucks, and people running about.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_61" id="pg_61">61</a></span>As she came to the door of the car—she did not go out by the one +chosen by the Senator’s daughter and her friends—the roar of voices +burst upon her ear:</p> + +<p>“Clinton Hotel! This way!”</p> + +<p>“Pinewood Hall! This is the ’bus for the school! Pinewood Hall!”</p> + +<p>“Carriage, Miss! Private carriage, Miss!”</p> + +<p>“Pinewood Hall! Pinewood Hall!”</p> + +<p>“Clinton House! Come on, here, you that want the hotel.”</p> + +<p>“’Bus for Pinewood. That you, Miss Briggs? Going with me? Where’s yer +check?”</p> + +<p>“This way for the school. Pinewood Hall! Hi, there, Jim! Found that +other one? Miss Nelson! Miss Nelson! Who’s seen Miss Nelson?”</p> + +<p>Suddenly Nancy realized that the big man in front of her was roaring her +name in stentorian tones.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh!” she gasped. “<i>I’m</i> Miss Nelson.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Here she is, Jim! Right this way to the ’bus. Where’s your +check, Miss? All right. Have the trunk and bag up some time to-night—if +they are here.”</p> + +<p>“They should have come on the earlier train,” explained Nancy.</p> + +<p>“All right. Then you’ll git ’em on this load. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_62" id="pg_62">62</a></span>There’s the ’bus, Miss. +Yes! there’s room for you in there.”</p> + +<p>The omnibus was backed up against the platform under the hood of the +station. There was a crowd of laughing, chattering girls before her in +the vehicle.</p> + +<p>“Now, Jim! you can’t put another livin’ soul in this ’bus—you know you +can’t,” cried one, to the driver.</p> + +<p>“Boss says so, Miss,” growled Jim.</p> + +<p>“What do you think we are—sardines? Oh! my foot!” shrieked another +girl.</p> + +<p>“And she’s a greeny, too. Any of you ever see her before?” demanded one +of the girls nearest the half-closed door.</p> + +<p>“Say! what’s your name?” asked another girl, leaning out to speak to +Nancy.</p> + +<p>Nancy told her.</p> + +<p>“She’s green—what did I tell you? And we’re all sophs here. Say, +Freshie! don’t you know you don’t belong in here?”</p> + +<p>“She’ll have to ride with you, Jim, on the front seat.”</p> + +<p>“Now! you know what the Madame would say to <i>that</i>, Miss,” growled Jim.</p> + +<p>“Here!” interposed Nancy herself. “I don’t want to ride with you any +more than you seem to want me. But it’s raining, and I don’t propose <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_63" id="pg_63">63</a></span>to +get wet,” and she sturdily shouldered her way past the driver and into +the ’bus between the knees of the girls on either hand.</p> + +<p>“I can stand,” she said, grimly.</p> + +<p>“But don’t stand on my foot, please, Miss!” snapped a girl she was +crowding. “Haven’t you any feet of your own?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, cracky, Bertha! you know she’s got to stand somewhere. And your +feet——”</p> + +<p>“Ouch! who are <i>you</i> shoving?”</p> + +<p>“Step forward, please!”</p> + +<p>“Plenty of room up front!”</p> + +<p>“Why, Belle Macdonald’s piled her bags up in the corner and has gone to +sleep on ’em!” shrieked somebody from ahead, as the ’bus lurched +forward.</p> + +<p>Nancy was confused, hurt, and ashamed. The horse splashed through the +puddles and the ’bus plunged and shook over the cobbles.</p> + +<p>There were few street lights, and such as there were were dim and +wavering in the mist and falling rain. She could see nothing of +Clintondale, except that huge trees lined the streets.</p> + +<p>The girls were cross, or loud. Not one spoke to her kindly. She was +shaken about by the ’bus, and scolded by those whom she was forced to +trample upon when she lost her footing.</p> + +<p>The new girl from Higbee was much depressed. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_64" id="pg_64">64</a></span>All her pride and +satisfaction in being sent to such a popular school as Pinewood had +oozed away.</p> + +<p>Her experience with Mr. Gordon added to her unhappiness. She had learned +nothing by going to him. He had even called her disobedient.</p> + +<p>If these girls were a sample of Pinewood Hall pupils, Nancy knew that +she had a hard row to hoe ahead of her. And she had not liked the +appearance of those other girls in the train, either.</p> + +<p>It was a hopeless outlook. She would have cried—only she was ashamed to +do so in the sight of these sharp-tongued, quarreling sophomores. Poor +Nancy Nelson’s introduction to Pinewood Hall seemed a most unfortunate +one.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_65" id="pg_65">65</a></span> +<a name="THE_MADAME_1855" id="THE_MADAME_1855"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>THE MADAME</h3> +</div> + +<p>The omnibus lurched through a wide gateway where two huge stone pillars +almost hid a tiny lodge, the latter aglow with lamplight. Pinewood had +once been a famous private estate, and a Vice-president of the United +States had lived in it.</p> + +<p>But for many years it had been a girls’ school, and Madame Schakael had +come from Germany to be its principal. As a little girl she had attended +the school herself, Nancy knew, and she had afterward—after being an +instructor in college—married a German professor and gone to his +country.</p> + +<p>He was now dead and Madame had come back to her native land and to her +much beloved preparatory school.</p> + +<p>The door of the lodge opened and Nancy saw a very neat looking woman +with a dark dress and gingham apron standing in the doorway. She waved a +hand and her cheerful voice reached the ears of the wrangling girls in +the ’bus.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_66" id="pg_66">66</a></span>“Welcome, young ladies! Are you all right? Are there any new ones +there?”</p> + +<p>“We’re all sophs but one greeny,” called one of the girls. “Glad to see +you, Jessie Pease.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Miss. The new one is to go to the Madame at once. That is +the order. Let her go before supper.”</p> + +<p>The driver snapped his whip and the ’bus rumbled on. The drive was +winding and the trees soon hid the lighted lodge.</p> + +<p>But other bright lamps began to appear ahead. By stooping, as she clung +to one of the hand-straps, Nancy was able to descry the outlines of +several big buildings—or a huge building with several wings; she did +not know which it was, and did not feel like inquiring.</p> + +<p>Indeed, after entering the ’bus she had not spoken to the girls at all. +Some of them had thrown a question at her now and then, but it had been +either an impudent or an unkind one, and she had grimly held her tongue.</p> + +<p>At last the ’bus stopped at the foot of a wide flight of steps. A great +awning of glass and iron sheltered the porch and steps. Under this +burned a bright light, and within the building Nancy could see a great +hall with two staircases rising out of it.</p> + +<p>This was indeed a very different place from <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_67" id="pg_67">67</a></span>Higbee School, with its +cottages and one small recitation hall.</p> + +<p>“Come on! You get out first, Greeny,” commanded one girl. “You were the +last sardine shoved into this awful box. Move; can’t you?”</p> + +<p>Nancy rescued her bag from under their feet and staggered out of the +door of the ’bus. The other girls piled after her.</p> + +<p>There were very few on the porch to receive them; boisterousness would +not have been allowed here. But there were lights in a long room at one +side—Nancy could see them shining through the windows—and a rattle of +china and glass, and loud talking and laughter, pointed the way to the +dining room.</p> + +<p>“But you’re on starvation diet, Greeny,” said one of the girls, with a +malicious laugh. “No dinner for you till you’ve seen the Madame.”</p> + +<p>At that moment considerable disturbance was raised over the fact that +the ’bus was driving off with one of the girls still in it.</p> + +<p>“Let Belle Macdonald out! I told you she was asleep in there,” cried one +of the sophs, running after the driver through the puddles.</p> + +<p>He pulled up and they managed to rouse Miss Macdonald, who was a fat +girl with innumerable bags and parcels. She staggered out of the ’bus, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_68" id="pg_68">68</a></span>dropping sundry of her impedimenta, sleepy and yawning.</p> + +<p>“I don’t care, girls. I was up all last night at a party at home, and I +haven’t slept much for a week,” she said, heavily. “Come on, Judy. You +bring part of my things; will you?”</p> + +<p>“Come on in to dinner,” said the girl who helped the sleepy one.</p> + +<p>“Believe <i>me</i>! I’d be asleep in a minute. I’m going to tumble into bed. +Anybody know if Judy and I have got the same old hole-in-the-wall to +sleep in?”</p> + +<p>“Go up and grab it, anyhow,” advised her chum. “I’ll bring the rest of +these things when I come. And don’t fall down in one of the corridors +and go fast asleep, Belle, for I’ll never be able to drag you off to +bed.”</p> + +<p>They trooped away, leaving Nancy and her bag practically alone on the +porch. Nancy had never realized that girls could be so hateful.</p> + +<p>But she forgot that these were all sophomores, and the second-year girls +and freshmen at Pinewood Hall were as far apart as the poles.</p> + +<p>The new girl went timidly into the hall. The chime of distant laughter +still came from the room where the new arrivals were eating their +evening meal, evidently under little discipline on this first night.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_69" id="pg_69">69</a></span>There seemed to be no real “greeny” but herself about. She saw several +girls pass and repass at the far end of the hall, and others mounted the +staircases; but at first nobody spoke to Nancy.</p> + +<p>She was not naturally a timid girl; but all this was strange to her. She +faced a row of closed doors upon the side of the corridor opposite the +dining place. One of these might be the door of the principal’s office; +but which one Nancy could not guess.</p> + +<p>For five minutes she waited. Then suddenly she was aware of a tall and +very dark girl coming down one of the great staircases.</p> + +<p>This newcomer must have been eighteen or nineteen—a “big girl” indeed +in Nancy’s eyes. And such a pretty girl! The “greeny” had never in her +life seen so pretty a girl before.</p> + +<p>She was dark, her eyes were black, her hair was banded about her head, +and her lips were so red that they might have been painted. But her +color was natural—cheeks as well as lips. A flashing, cheerful +countenance she turned on Nancy, and she said, before she reached the +foot of the stairs:</p> + +<p>“You’re a new girl, I am sure. Hasn’t anybody spoken to you? Where do +you want to go?”</p> + +<p>The mere tone of this girl’s voice seemed to change the atmosphere that +had so depressed <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_70" id="pg_70">70</a></span>Nancy. That lump was in her throat again, but she +could smile at the serene beauty.</p> + +<p>“I was told to see Madame Schakael—before having dinner. But I don’t +know where to find her,” confessed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s easy,” cried the other girl. “I’ll show you. What is your +name, please?”</p> + +<p>Nancy told her.</p> + +<p>“I am Corinne Pevay,” said the other, pronouncing her name in the French +manner. “I am a senior. I hope you will be happy here, Nancy Nelson.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you!” gasped the younger girl, having hard work now to keep from +crying. The kind word moved her more than the neglect of the other +girls.</p> + +<p>Corinne led the way to one of the doors and opened it composedly. +Through a richly furnished anteroom she preceded the new girl and +knocked lightly upon another doer.</p> + +<p>“Enter!” responded a pleasant voice.</p> + +<p>Corinne turned the knob, looked in, said “Good-evening!” brightly, and +then stood aside for Nancy to pass her.</p> + +<p>“Another newcomer, Madame—Nancy Nelson.”</p> + +<p>“Come in, too, Corinne,” said the pleasant voice.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_71" id="pg_71">71</a></span>Nancy passed through and saw the owner of the voice. She was a little +lady—a veritable doll-like person. She sat on a high chair at a +desk-table, with her tiny feet upon a hassock, for they could not reach +the floor.</p> + +<p>“Come hither, Nancy Nelson. You are the girl of whom my good friend, +Miss Prentice, of the Higbee School, wrote me? I am glad to see you, +child,” declared Madame Schakael.</p> + +<p>Her hair was a silvery gray, but there was a lot of it, and her +complexion was as rosy as Nancy’s own. She must have passed the +half-century mark some time before, but the principal of Pinewood Hall +betrayed few marks of the years in her face.</p> + +<p>She had shrewd gray eyes, however, and rather heavy brows. Nancy thought +at once that no girl would undertake to take advantage of Madame +Schakael, despite her diminutive size. Those eyes could see right +through shams, and her lips were firm.</p> + +<p>She took Nancy’s hand and drew the girl around to her side. There she +studied the newcomer’s face earnestly, and in silence.</p> + +<p>“We have here one of the sensitive ones, Corinne,” she said, at last, +speaking to the senior instead of to Nancy. “But she is ‘true blue.’ She +will make a fine Pinewood girl—yes, yes!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_72" id="pg_72">72</a></span>“We will try to make her happy here—though she does not look entirely +happy now,” and Madame laughed in a quick, low way that pleased the new +girl vastly.</p> + +<p>“Ah! there she smiles. Nancy Nelson, you look much prettier when you +smile—cultivate smiling, therefore. That must be your first lesson here +at Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p>“Happiness is born of making other people happy. See if you can’t do +someone a good turn every day. You’ll get along splendidly that way, +Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Now, as for the lessons—you stood well in your classes at Higbee. You +will find it no harder to stand well here, I am sure. I shall expect to +hear good reports of you. Classes begin day after to-morrow.</p> + +<p>“Meanwhile, make yourself at home about the Hall; learn your way about; +get acquainted—especially with the members of your own class. I shall +put Nancy Nelson on your side of the Hall, Corinne—the West Side.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll take her right up and show her the room. What is it to be, +Madame?” asked Corinne, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>The principal ran through several pages of a ledger before replying.</p> + +<p>“Number 30, West.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_73" id="pg_73">73</a></span>“She’s chummed with Miss Rathmore, then,” said the older girl, quickly.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I must break up that clique. Put her with Miss Rathmore. And do +see that the child has some dinner; she must be hungry,” said the +Madame, laughing again.</p> + +<p>Then she once more shook Nancy’s hand.</p> + +<p>“Go with Corinne, dear. If you want to know anything, ask her. Read the +rules of the Hall, which you will find framed in your room. If you obey +them cheerfully, you can’t go far wrong. Good-night, Nancy Nelson! and I +hope you will sleep well your first night at Pinewood Hall.”</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_74" id="pg_74">74</a></span> +<a name="CORA_RATHMORE_2087" id="CORA_RATHMORE_2087"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>CORA RATHMORE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Nancy followed the senior out of the principal’s presence, feeling much +encouraged. Madame Schakael was so different from Miss Prentice, the +principal of the school at which Nancy had lived so many years.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t she just the sweetest woman you ever met?” demanded Corinne, +enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>“She is lovely,” responded Nancy.</p> + +<p>“But she is firm. Don’t try to take any advantage of her,” laughed the +senior. “You will find that she is only doll-like in appearance. She is +a very scholarly woman, and she believes strongly in discipline. But she +gets effects without dealing out much punishment. You’ll learn.”</p> + +<p>“I hope I won’t need to learn her stern side,” said Nancy, smiling.</p> + +<p>“Well, you seem a sensible kid,” said the older girl, patting her on the +shoulder. “Come on, now, and have your dinner. Then I’ll take you up +into our side of the hall.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_75" id="pg_75">75</a></span>“I hope I am not taking up your time too much, Miss—Miss Pevay,” said +Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” laughed the senior. “What is the good of being boss of a +‘side’ if one has no responsibilities? It’s an honor to be captain of +the West Side of Pinewood Hall.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! it must be,” agreed Nancy, who thought this beautiful girl a very +great person indeed.</p> + +<p>They came to the long room in which the tables were set. There were only +a few girls in the room. Nancy at once saw the Montgomery girl and her +friends at one table, but was glad that Miss Pevay did not approach +them.</p> + +<p>Indeed, Corinne took her to one of the senior tables where two or three +of the older pupils of Pinewood were grouped.</p> + +<p>“Here’s a little ‘greeny’ who has come among us hungry,” laughed the +senior, urging Nancy into a chair and beckoning to one of the +waitresses.</p> + +<p>The other big girls were kind to the newcomer; but they had interests of +their own and what they chatted about was all “Greek” to Nancy Nelson. +So she gave her strict attention to the food.</p> + +<p>The dinner was nicely served and was much better than the food usually +put on the table at Higbee School. By this time Nancy <i>was</i> hungry, and +she did full justice to the repast. Meanwhile an occasional brisk fire +of conversation between <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_76" id="pg_76">76</a></span>Corinne and her friends penetrated to Nancy’s +rather confused understanding.</p> + +<p>“Are all the nice boys back at Clinton Academy this half, do you know, +Corinne?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t ask me! I can’t keep run of <i>all</i> Dr. Dudley’s boys,” laughed +Miss Pevay.</p> + +<p>“Well, I hope Bob Endress has come. He’s certainly one nice boy,” cried +another of the seniors.</p> + +<p>“Why! he’s only a child!” drawled another young lady. “If he is back +this fall it is only to begin his junior year.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care,” said Corinne. “He really <i>is</i> a nice boy. I agree with +Mary.”</p> + +<p>“Say! the Montgomery girl told me Bob came near being drowned this +summer. What do you know about that?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Carrie!”</p> + +<p>“She had all the details, so I guess it’s so. He is some sort of a +distant relative of hers——”</p> + +<p>“I’d want the relationship to be mighty distant if I were Bob,” laughed +the girl named Mary.</p> + +<p>“Quite so,” said the teller of the tale. “However, he went automobiling +with the Montgomerys through to Chicago. And on the road he fell into +some pond, or river, and he can’t swim——”</p> + +<p>“But he can skate—beautifully,” sighed Corinne. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_77" id="pg_77">77</a></span>“I hope there’ll be +good skating this winter on Clinton River.”</p> + +<p>“Me, too! And me! Oh, I adore skating!” were the chorused exclamations +from the group.</p> + +<p>Corinne now noted that Nancy had finished.</p> + +<p>“Come! I’ve got to stow little ‘greeny’ away for the night,” she said, +pinching Nancy’s plump cheek. “Come on, kid! It’ll soon be bedtime for +first-readers.”</p> + +<p>Nancy did not mind this playful reference to her juvenile state, it was +said so pleasantly. She followed Corinne docilely up the broad flight +into the west wing of the great building. Once it had been a private +residence; but it was big enough to be called a castle.</p> + +<p>The rooms on the lower floor had not been much changed when Pinewood +Hall became a preparatory school for girls. But above the first story +the old partitions had been ripped out and the floors cut up on each +side of the main stairways into a single broad, T-shaped corridor and +many reasonably spacious bedrooms and studies.</p> + +<p>One walked out of the corridor into the studies; the bedrooms were back +of these dens, with broad windows, overlooking the beautiful grounds.</p> + +<p>On the first dormitory floor were the instructors’ rooms, for the most +part. One lady teacher only slept on the second floor; above, the +seniors <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_78" id="pg_78">78</a></span>and juniors governed their own dormitories. By the time the +girls came to their last two years at Pinewood Hall, Madame Schakael +believed that they should be governed by honor solely.</p> + +<p>The freshies were paired on the first dormitory floor—two girls in each +apartment. Number 30, Nancy found, was upon one of the “arms” of the +corridor, and a good way from any of the teachers’ studies, and from the +main stairway.</p> + +<p>When Corinne and Nancy came to Number 30 there was nobody in the study +or bedroom. The older girl snapped on the electric lights by pushing a +button in the wall beside the entrance door.</p> + +<p>“Rathmore is your chum,” said Corinne, lightly. “I hope you two girls +will get on well together. I like to have all the chums live together +without friction—for it is easier for me, and easier for the teachers.</p> + +<p>“Now, Cora Rathmore has been here half a term already. Some of your +class came in last spring so as to take up certain studies to fit them +for the beginning of the fall work. I presume, from what Madame Schakael +says, that your school was a pretty good one, and that you were brought +along farther in your primary and grammar studies than some of the +others.</p> + +<p>“However, Rathmore knows her way about. She—she’s not a bad sort; but +she and some of <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_79" id="pg_79">79</a></span>her friends last spring made the former West Side +captain considerable trouble.</p> + +<p>“So those girls who were bothersome,” pursued Corinne, “can’t room +together again this half. There! that is your side of the room. That’s +your bed, and your cupboard and locker, and your dressing table. Keep +everything neat, Nancy. That’s the first commandment at Pinewood Hall. +And the other commandments you can read on that framed list,” and she +pointed to a brief schedule of rules and duties hanging on the wall of +the study.</p> + +<p>Then the senior put her arm around the new girl and gave her a +resounding kiss upon her plump cheek.</p> + +<p>“You’re a nice little thing, I believe. Good-night!” she said, and ran +out of the room.</p> + +<p>But she left Nancy Nelson feeling almost as though she had deliberately +deceived the senior. Would Corinne Pevay have been so friendly—and +kissed her—if she had been aware that Nancy was just “Miss Nobody from +Nowhere?”</p> + +<p>After a little, however, the new girl opened her handbag and took out +her toilet articles and her, nightgown, robe, and slippers. She arranged +the brushes, and other things on the dressing table, and hung her robe +and gown in their proper place.</p> + +<p>It was now nearly nine o’clock. She understood <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_80" id="pg_80">80</a></span>that, during term time, +at least, the freshman class were to be in bed at nine; and even the +seniors must have their lights out at ten o’clock.</p> + +<p>She read the list of rules through carefully. They did not seem hard, or +arbitrary. Miss Prentice had been strict, indeed. To Nancy these +“commandments” seemed easily kept.</p> + +<p>There were two small desks in the room. Nancy examined the one upon her +own side of the study and found only stationery, blank books, pencils, +and pen and ink. There were no books.</p> + +<p>But she ventured to look in the other desk, which was not locked, and +saw that here were several text-books, evidently to be studied by the +freshmen this first year.</p> + +<p>In each book was written the name of Cora Rathmore. It was an erect, +angular handwriting, and somehow Nancy drew from it that she would not +like the owner of the books.</p> + +<p>And yet she wanted to like her. Nancy longed for a real chum. She wished +that her suspicions might prove to be unfounded, and that her roommate +might be a jolly, open-hearted girl who would like her, and——</p> + +<p>“Well! perhaps you don’t know that that is <i>my</i> desk?” snapped a voice +suddenly, behind her.</p> + +<p>Nancy dropped the book, startled. She wheeled to see confronting her, +just within the <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_81" id="pg_81">81</a></span>room, the black-eyed, thin-faced girl who had seemed on +the train to be Grace Montgomery’s chief friend.</p> + +<p>“Well! haven’t you got anything to say?” demanded the sharp-voiced girl.</p> + +<p>“Why, I wondered what our books were going to be like——”</p> + +<p>“Now you know. Keep out of my desk hereafter,” interposed the other +girl. “And please to inform me what you’re doing in here, anyway?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I—I have been chummed with you—if you are Cora Rathmore,” said +Nancy.</p> + +<p>“<i>You?</i>” shrieked the other. “No! it’s not so! I won’t have it! I was +just going to get my books and go to Grace’s room——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I know nothing about <i>that</i>,” said Nancy, hastily. “I only know +that Miss Pevay brought me to this room and said I must chum with the +girl who was here.”</p> + +<p>“It’s not so! I don’t believe you!” cried Cora. “And that stuck-up +thing,—that French-Canadian smartie!—just did it to be mean. I’m +going to Madame——”</p> + +<p>Nancy really hoped she would. She hoped with all her heart that it would +prove a mistake that Cora Rathmore was chummed with her. She knew very +well now that her suspicions had justification <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_82" id="pg_82">82</a></span>in fact. This girl was a +most unpleasant roommate.</p> + +<p>At that moment the door banged open and another girl came flying in.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Cora! have you found out? We can’t do it?”</p> + +<p>“Found out what?” snapped Cora.</p> + +<p>“We can’t pick our rooms as we did last spring. Grace has been sent +clear over into the other corridor, and is paired with a greeny——Say, +who’s <i>this</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know!” said Cora, sullenly sitting down. “It’s just too +mean! I’ve got to stop here, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“And they’ve taken Belle from me and given me Annie Gibbons,” cried the +visitor. “And Annie snores—horridly!”</p> + +<p>“It’s a hateful place,” snarled Cora Rathmore.</p> + +<p>“I wish my folks hadn’t sent me here,” groaned the other.</p> + +<p>“I’d run away—for half a cent,” declared the Rathmore girl.</p> + +<p>“Where would you run to?” demanded her friend.</p> + +<p>“Anywhere. To the city. I don’t care. Pinewood Hall isn’t going to be +any fun at all, if we can’t pair off as we choose.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s your chum?” asked the visitor again, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_83" id="pg_83">83</a></span>eyeing Nancy, who had +returned to her own side of the room and had turned her back to them.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know. Some <i>nobody</i>, of course!”</p> + +<p>The words cut Nancy to the heart. The very phrase, uttered by chance, +was the one she had feared most in coming to Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” thought she, “if they say that of me already, what <i>will</i> they say +when they find that I really have no home and no folks?”</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_84" id="pg_84">84</a></span> +<a name="WHO_IS_SHE_ANYWAY_2355" id="WHO_IS_SHE_ANYWAY_2355"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>“WHO IS SHE, ANYWAY?”</h3> +</div> + +<p>The curfew bell sent the younger girls to their rooms a few moments +later; but Cora Rathmore went to bed without speaking to her roommate. +And Nancy felt too unhappy herself to try to overcome the other girl’s +reticence.</p> + +<p>The girl from Higbee School had had so many adventures that day that she +could not at once go to sleep. She lay awake a long time after Cora’s +heavy and regular breathing assured her that her companion in Number 30 +was in the land of dreams.</p> + +<p>She heard the gong at ten which demanded silence and “lights out” of the +girls on the upper dormitory floors. Then a list-slippered teacher went +through the corridor. After that she went to sleep.</p> + +<p>But her own dreams were not very restful. She was hiding something all +night long from some creature that had a hundred eyes!</p> + +<p>In the morning, when she awoke, she knew that what she had been trying +to hide—what she <i>must</i> <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_85" id="pg_85">85</a></span>hide, indeed—was the knowledge that she was +“Miss Nobody” from all these eager, inquisitive, perhaps heartless +girls.</p> + +<p>Nancy had been in the habit of rising early, and she was up and dressed +before rising bell at seven. When Cora rolled over sleepily and blinked +about the sun-flooded room, she saw Nancy tying her hair-ribbon, being +otherwise completely dressed, and she whined:</p> + +<p>“Well! I sha’n’t like <i>you</i>, Miss. I can see that, plainly. You don’t +know enough to lie abed and let a fellow sleep.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure <i>I</i> did not wake you,” replied Nancy, composedly. “It was the +gong.”</p> + +<p>“Bah!” grumbled Cora, crawling out of bed.</p> + +<p>Nancy had read over the rules again and she knew that from rising bell +until breakfast at half-past seven she was free to do as she chose. So, +not caring to listen to her roommate’s ill-natured remarks, she slipped +out and found her way downstairs and out of the building.</p> + +<p>It was a clear, warm September morning. The leaves on the distant maples +had only just begun to turn. The lawns before Pinewood Hall were +beautiful. Behind and on both sides of the great main building was the +grove of huge pine trees that gave the place its name.</p> + +<p>Beautifully smooth, pebbled paths led through <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_86" id="pg_86">86</a></span>this grove in several +directions. Nancy chanced upon one that led to the gymnasium and +swimming pool. There were tennis and basketball courts, and other means +of athletic enjoyment.</p> + +<p>Down the easy slope, from the top of the knoll where the gym. stood, +flowed the wide, quiet Clinton River, with a pennant snapping in the +morning breeze on the staff a-top the school boathouse.</p> + +<p>“Oh, this is the most beautiful place!” thought Nancy. “What a perfectly +lovely time I should have here if only the girls liked me. I must <i>make</i> +them like me. That’s what I’ve got to do.”</p> + +<p>She saw only two or three other girls about the grounds, and those at a +distance. As she ran back to the main building, however, that structure +began to hum with life. More than anything else did Pinewood Hall remind +Nancy of a great beehive.</p> + +<p>Many of the bedroom windows were wide open now; the more or less tousled +heads of girls in all stages of dressing appeared, and disappeared +again, at these windows. They called back and forth to each other; +laughter rang happily from many of the dormitories; the waking life of +the great school seemed, to the lonely girl, very charming indeed.</p> + +<p>Why, among all these girls there must be some who would be friendly! +This thought helped <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_87" id="pg_87">87</a></span>Nancy a great deal. She entered the building and +joined the beginning of the line at the breakfast-room door, much +encouraged.</p> + +<p>“Look at these hungry young ones,” exclaimed Corinne Pevay, coming down +the broad stair from the West Side, like a queen descending to give +audience to her subjects.</p> + +<p>“Morning, Corinne! Morning, Miss Pevay!” were the cries of greeting.</p> + +<p>“‘Good morning, little myrtle-blossoms! Let me tell you mommer’s plan!’” +sing-songed the older girl. “‘Do some good to all the folkses’—Hullo, +Carrie!”</p> + +<p>“‘Good-morn-ing-Car-rie!’” sang the crowd of girls at the dining-room +door as the captain of the East Side of the Hall appeared—Carrie +Littlefield.</p> + +<p>There was a burst of laughter, and Corinne held up her hand +admonishingly.</p> + +<p>“Not so much racket, children!” she said. “There! the gate is opened, +and you can all go in to pasture. Little lambkins!”</p> + +<p>Nancy was carried on by the line to the open door. The pleasant-faced +woman who had stood in the doorway of the lodge the evening before, was +here, and she tapped Nancy on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Go to the lower tables, my dear. You are <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_88" id="pg_88">88</a></span>a new girl, and all your +class will be down there. What is your name?”</p> + +<p>“Nancy Nelson.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed. Your trunk and bag are here. Between eight and nine you +may come to the trunk room in the basement and show me which of your +possessions you wish carried to your room. Where is your room?”</p> + +<p>“Number 30,” replied Nancy.</p> + +<p>“East or West?”</p> + +<p>“West, ma’am.”</p> + +<p>“I am Jessie Pease,” said the good woman, smiling kindly on the orphan. +“If you need anything, my dear, come to Jessie; she’s the big sister of +all you girls,” and she patted Nancy on the head as the girl, her heart +warmed suddenly, went to her place at the end of the room.</p> + +<p>The girls of her class—the incoming class of new girls, or +freshmen—took places at the table as they chose. There were no more +than a score as yet. Some had already formed groups of acquaintanceship. +Some few, like Nancy, were alone; but Nancy did not feel that she could +force her company on any one of these other lonesome souls. She must +wait for them to speak first to her.</p> + +<p>The sophomores filled their tables nearby, chattering and laughing. They +looked with much <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_89" id="pg_89">89</a></span>amusement at the freshmen, but some of the teachers +were in the room now and the second-year girls thought it best not to +“rig” their juniors openly.</p> + +<p>Nancy, however, saw several of the girls who had ridden in the ’bus with +her from the station the night before. Last to arrive in the soph. group +was the fat girl—Belle Macdonald. She was a pretty girl, but she was +yawning still and her hair had been given only “a lick and a promise,” +while her frock was not neat.</p> + +<p>In the middle of breakfast Carrie Littlefield, the captain of the East +Side, walked slowly along the soph. tables and stopped behind Belle. +Some of the girls began to giggle; the fat one looked a little scared, +and for the moment seemed to lose a very hearty appetite.</p> + +<p>Carrie wrote something on a pad, tore off the paper, and thrust it into +Belle’s hand. Then she went along the row gravely, plainly eyeing those +girls who belonged to her own half of the school.</p> + +<p>“Nasty thing!” Nancy heard somebody whispering shrilly. “I bet she gave +Belle all morning in her room—and lessons don’t begin until to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>This was Cora Rathmore. Nancy’s roommate had come in at the very last +minute and taken a seat not far from her. Cora, having been a <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_90" id="pg_90">90</a></span>month and +a half at Pinewood in the spring, knew about the running of the school.</p> + +<p>The two captains—“monitors” they might be called—made it one of their +duties to see that the girls came to table in the morning in neat array. +Later they took a trip through the rooms to see that beds were properly +stripped, windows open for airing, nightclothes hung away, and +everything neat and tidy.</p> + +<p>Of course, the maids made beds, swept and dusted dormitories, and all +that; but each girl was supposed to attend to her own personal +belongings; slovenliness was frowned upon throughout the school.</p> + +<p>Nancy learned much that first forenoon at Pinewood. She did not talk +much with any of the girls—either of her own class or older. But she +heard a good deal, and kept her eyes and ears open.</p> + +<p>She remembered what the lodgekeeper’s wife had told her, and she found +her way to Jessie Pease’s room in the basement. There was a crowd of +girls there already. They were laughing, and joking, and teasing the +good woman, who seemed, as she said, to be a “big sister” to them all. +Nobody called her “Mrs. Pease;” she insisted upon their treating her as +though she really were their older sister.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_91" id="pg_91">91</a></span>Yet there was a way with Jessie Pease that kept even the rudest girl +within bounds. They did not seek to take advantage of her—at least, if +any of them tried to do so, they did not succeed.</p> + +<p>“Now, you know very well, Elsie Spear,” the good woman was saying, +shaking her head, “that you cannot wear such things here at Pinewood. +Your mother, I am sure, would not have allowed you to put a bun like +that in your trunk had she known it!”</p> + +<p>“Well, my hats won’t stay on without it,” complained Elsie. “And anyway, +mother’s maid packed my trunk.”</p> + +<p>“Your mother’s maid evidently does not know the rules of Pinewood Hall,” +said Jessie Pease, severely. “If your hats do not stay on without all +that fluff, I’ll find you a cap to wear,” and she laughed.</p> + +<p>There were other contraband things, too. Each girl had to give up her +keys and allow the woman to unpack her trunks. Such clothing and other +possessions as were allowable, or necessary, were placed to one side for +transportation to the owner’s dormitory.</p> + +<p>Some girls had whole trays full of gay banners, pictures, photographs, +and the other “litter” that delight the heart of a boarding-school miss +when she can decorate her dressing-case and wall. Of <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_92" id="pg_92">92</a></span>course, the +freshies only had their home pictures and little silver or glass +keepsakes and toilet sets.</p> + +<p>“Now, my plump little pigeon,” said Jessie Pease to Nancy, as she laid +out the school dresses which Miss Prentice had bought for her with the +money Mr. Gordon had supplied, “you seem nicely fixed for wearing +apparel—and such plain, serviceable things, too. Not many of my girls +come here so very sensibly supplied.</p> + +<p>“And now, where are the pretty things—in your bag?”</p> + +<p>“My old clothes are in the bag, please,” replied Nancy, bashfully.</p> + +<p>“Oh! but where are the pictures of the folks at home? And the little +knicknacks they gave you when you came away?” said Jessie Pease, her +fair face all one big smile.</p> + +<p>“There—there aren’t any folks, please,” stammered Nancy.</p> + +<p>“What, dear?” gasped the woman, sitting straighter on her knees and +staring at her.</p> + +<p>“I am an orphan, and I have no friends, ma’am,” stammered Nancy, in so +low a voice that nobody else could hear.</p> + +<p>“You poor girl!” cried the woman, her smile fading, but love and welcome +still shining in her big, brown eyes.</p> + +<p>She stretched forth her arms and—somehow—Nancy <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_93" id="pg_93">93</a></span>found herself in the +tight circle, with her head down in the curve of Jessie Pease’s motherly +neck.</p> + +<p>“How long ago did you lose them, dear?” asked the good woman.</p> + +<p>“Oh, a very long, long time ago,” sobbed Nancy. “I was too little to +remember—much.”</p> + +<p>“And you’ve missed ’em ever since—you’ve just been <i>honin’</i> for a +mother, I know,” said the woman, crooningly, and patting Nancy’s +shoulder.</p> + +<p>“There, there, child! It’ll all be strange to you here for a while; but +when you can’t stand it any more—when it does seem as though you’d +<i>got</i> to be mothered—you come down to the lodge to Jessie Pease. +Remember, now! You will surely come?”</p> + +<p>“I will,” promised Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Now wipe your eyes and laugh!” commanded Jessie Pease. “Why, Pinewood +Hall is the finest place in the world for girls—especially for those +that are like you. Here’s a great, big family of sisters and cousins +ready waiting for you. Get acquainted!”</p> + +<p>But that seemed easier said than done. Nancy was not by nature gloomy +nor reticent; but it was unfortunate that she had been paired with Cora +Rathmore.</p> + +<p>From the very first day the black-eyed girl tried <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_94" id="pg_94">94</a></span>to make it as +unpleasant as possible for Nancy. Cora had plenty of acquaintances. They +were always running into the room. But Cora never introduced any to her +roommate.</p> + +<p>Cora was one of those girls who have many, many decorations for her +room. Her dressing-case was stacked with photographs and all around and +above it the wall was decorated with banners, and funny or pretty +pictures, school pennants and the like.</p> + +<p>On the other side of the room Nancy’s wall and bureau were bare of any +adornment. Her toilet set had been selected by Miss Prentice and was +more useful than decorative. Nothing Nancy wore was frivolous. The other +girls therefore set her down as “odd.”</p> + +<p>“Why, she hasn’t a single picture on her bureau,” said one girl who was +visiting Cora. “Don’t you suppose she has any folks?”</p> + +<p>“Maybe they’re so ugly they’re afraid of breaking the camera if they +pose for a picture,” giggled another light-minded girl.</p> + +<p>“Well,” drawled Belle Macdonald, who was one of Cora’s sophomore +friends, “even an orphan usually has pictures of the folks she’s lost. +And this Nelson girl hasn’t told anything about herself; has she?”</p> + +<p>“She hasn’t told <i>me</i>, that’s sure,” snapped <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_95" id="pg_95">95</a></span>Cora. “She’s a nobody, I +believe. I don’t believe she belongs in this school with decent girls.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Cora! what do you mean?” gasped one of her hearers.</p> + +<p>“Well, Pinewood is supposed to be a school for well-connected girls. I +know <i>my</i> mother would never have let me come had she supposed I was to +be paired with a little Miss Nobody.”</p> + +<p>“We ought to have our choice,” sighed another of the girls.</p> + +<p>“And Grace and I were going to have <i>such</i> fun this half,” declared +Cora.</p> + +<p>One of the others giggled. “That’s why you weren’t allowed to be with +Montgomery,” she remarked. “I heard Corinne talking about it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that Canuck! I hate her,” said Cora, speaking thus disrespectfully +about the West Side captain.</p> + +<p>“Well, if any of us was in her place, I reckon we’d be strict, too. It +means something to be captain of a side at Pinewood Hall,” said Belle, +who, having been at the school longer than the others, had imbibed some +of that loyalty which is bound to impregnate the atmosphere of a +boarding school.</p> + +<p>“A fine chance Montgomery, or Cora, would have to be captain,” giggled +another.</p> + +<p>“Yes! and who is going to be leader of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_96" id="pg_96">96</a></span>freshman class?” demanded +Cora. “The big girls have got something to say about that, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“Some of the teachers will have,” laughed Belle. “You’ll find that out. +Who are you rooting for, Cora?”</p> + +<p>“Grace, of course! Why, her father’s a senator, and she’s got lots of +money. She’s influential. She ought to be class president.”</p> + +<p>“All right; but the election isn’t allowed until just before Christmas. +It will be the most popular girl then, you’ll find. And she’ll have to +be popular with the teachers as well as with you girls.”</p> + +<p>This conversation in Number 30, West Side, occurred something like a +fortnight after school had opened. The girls were all at work by that +time—those who <i>would</i> work, at least.</p> + +<p>Because she was so much alone, perhaps, Nancy Nelson’s record was all +the better. But she did not sulk in her room.</p> + +<p>Indeed, Cora had so much company—girls who usually ignored Nancy +altogether—that the orphan was glad to get out when they appeared. And +her refuge was the gym. There she became acquainted with the more +athletic girls of the school.</p> + +<p>They found—even the sophs and juniors—that Nancy could play tennis and +other games. She <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_97" id="pg_97">97</a></span>swam like a fish, too, and was eager to learn to row. +The captain of the crew, the coach of the basketball team, and others of +the older girls, began to pay some attention to Nancy.</p> + +<p>But with her own class she had not become popular. Nancy really had +little more than a speaking acquaintance with any other freshman.</p> + +<p>Not being included in the group of girls who so often came to see Cora +Rathmore in Number 30, Nancy was debarred from other groups, too. Nobody +came to see her in the room, and she was invited nowhere—perhaps +because the other girls thought she must be “in” with the clique to +which Cora belonged.</p> + +<p>At the head of this party of freshmen was the very proud girl named +Grace Montgomery, whom Cora indefatigably aped. Girls who were proud of +their parents’ money, or who catered to such girls because they were so +much better off than their mates, for the most part made up this clique.</p> + +<p>There was not more than a score of them; but they clung together and +were an influence in the class, although altogether there were nearly a +hundred freshmen.</p> + +<p>As the days went by the lessons became harder and the teachers more +strict. Nancy found that it was very hard to be put out of her own room +in study time because of the chattering of other <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_98" id="pg_98">98</a></span>girls, many of whom, +it seemed, did not care how they stood in their classes.</p> + +<p>“Really, I cannot hear myself think!” Nancy gasped one day when she had +sat with her elbows on her desk, her hands clasped over her ears, trying +to give all her attention to the text-book before her.</p> + +<p>For half an hour there had been noise enough in Number 30 to drive a +deaf and dumb person distracted.</p> + +<p>“Well, if you don’t like it, you can get out!” snapped Cora, when Nancy +complained. “You’re not wanted here, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“But I have as much right here as you have—and a better right than your +friends,” said Nancy, for once aroused.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think a girl like you has any business in the school at all,” +cried Cora, angrily. “Who knows anything about you? Goodness me! you’re +a perfect Miss Nobody—I can’t find a living soul that knows anything +about you. I don’t even know if your folks are respectable. I’ve written +home to my folks about it—that’s what <i>I</i> have done,” pursued the angry +girl. “I’m going to find out if we girls who come from nice families +have got to mix up with mere nobodies!”</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_99" id="pg_99">99</a></span> +<a name="ON_CLINTON_RIVER_2748" id="ON_CLINTON_RIVER_2748"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>ON CLINTON RIVER</h3> +</div> + +<p>This was not the only unpleasant discussion Nancy Nelson had with her +ill-tempered roommate. But it was one of those that hurt Nancy the most.</p> + +<p>Whenever Cora hinted at the other girl’s lack of friends and +relatives—at the mystery which seemed to surround her private +life—Nancy could no longer talk. Sometimes she cried; but not often +where her roommate could see her.</p> + +<p>There was a scrub crew for the eight-oared shell. Nancy made that, and +Carrie Littlefield, who was the captain of the school crew, praised her +work.</p> + +<p>The athletic instructor, Miss Etching, praised Nancy for her swimming +and general athletic work. There wasn’t a freshie or soph who could +stand against her on the tennis court. She had learned to play +basketball, and played it well. The coach had her eye on Nancy for one +of the best teams in the school.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_100" id="pg_100">100</a></span>On the other hand the girl from Higbee School stood well in her +classes, and she had no black marks against her. No teacher had been +forced to admonish Nancy, and Corinne Pevay had a cheerful word for her +and a smile whenever Nancy crossed her path.</p> + +<p>And yet the girl could not be happy. Her own mates—the freshmen—seemed +afraid of her. Or, at least, some of them did. And if Nancy was to have +chums she must find them, of course, in her own class.</p> + +<p>For the first few weeks of a school year the new girls gradually get +settled—both in their studies and in their friendships. Had Nancy by +good chance been paired with a different girl—with a girl who had not +already formed her own associates—matters might have gone along much +more smoothly.</p> + +<p>But Cora disliked her from the start. And the black-eyed girl was sharp +enough to see that accusing Nancy of being “a nobody” for some reason +hurt her roommate more than anything else.</p> + +<p>Therefore, being of a malicious disposition, Cora continued to harp upon +this, until she had spread through the school the suspicion that Nancy +had come to Pinewood Hall under unusual circumstances. Nobody knew where +she had <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_101" id="pg_101">101</a></span>come from. She never spoke of her people, nor of where she had +lived.</p> + +<p>And, of course, this was quite true. Nancy did not want to tell about +her life at Higbee School. Fortunately no girl from Higbee had ever come +to Pinewood Hall before, and the girl thought that her secret was safe.</p> + +<p>Cora and her friends might suspect, but they really knew nothing about +Nancy’s past life. Already some of the girls had received boxes from +home—those delightful surprise boxes that give such a zest to +boarding-school life. Nancy never received a letter, even.</p> + +<p>So, Nancy could not be very happy at Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p>Other girls went around in recreation hours with their arms about each +other’s waists, chattering with all the cheerfulness of blackbirds. They +had “secrets” together and whispered about them in corners. There were +little, harmless gatherings in the dormitories, sometimes after curfew; +but Nancy had no part in these girlish dissipations.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was her own fault. But the girl, who felt herself ostracized, +feared a rebuff. As Madame Schakael had said to Corinne, Nancy was one +of the sensitive ones. And the sensitive girl at boarding school is +bound to have a hard time unless she very quickly makes a lasting +friendship, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_102" id="pg_102">102</a></span>or becomes a popular member of some group of her +schoolfellows right at the start.</p> + +<p>When she felt very lonely in Number 30, or when Cora’s friends made it +impossible for her to study, Nancy sought comfort—such as it was—in +the gym., or in taking long walks by the river.</p> + +<p>The Pinewood estate was a large one and she did not have to go out of +bounds to get plenty of walking exercise. Furthermore, as soon as the +frost came, all the athletic girls were anxious about the ice.</p> + +<p>Clinton River was a quiet, if broad, stream and before the last of +October the edges and the quiet pools inshore were skimmed over. Nancy, +who loved skating, and had bought a beautiful pair of skates the year +before with her own pocket-money, watched the forming ice almost daily.</p> + +<p>“Great times on the river when it once freezes over,” she heard one girl +say. “And I bet the boys at the Academy are watching just as closely as +we are.”</p> + +<p>Clinton Academy, Nancy had learned, was only a mile away. She had even +seen its towers, from a distance. And some of Dr. Dudley’s boys had +passed the lodge one day when Nancy was down there visiting Jessie +Pease.</p> + +<p>For the girl had occasionally taken advantage of the invitation the +lodgekeeper’s wife had extended <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_103" id="pg_103">103</a></span>to her, and had visited her in the +neat little cottage. Mrs. Pease frequently got some of the younger girls +together in her kitchen on rainy days, and let them pull taffy and pop +corn, and otherwise enjoy themselves.</p> + +<p>Yet, once away from the presence of the kind-hearted matron, Nancy found +herself no closer to her schoolmates than before.</p> + +<p>November brought dark nights and black frost. Clintondale was well up +toward the Great Lakes and sometimes the winter arrives early in that +part of the country.</p> + +<p>It did so this year—the first of Nancy Nelson’s sojourn at Pinewood +Hall. One morning Nancy got up while it was still dark, slipping out to +the bathroom as noiselessly as a little gray ghost—her robe was of that +modest color. There she swiftly made her toilet and then as quietly +dressed in Number 30.</p> + +<p>She had learned to do all this without rousing Cora, for her roommate +was very unpleasant indeed if she woke up in the morning and found Nancy +stirring about the room. No matter if the rising bell had rung, Cora +always accused Nancy, on these occasions, of deliberately spoiling her +morning nap. Cora <i>was</i> a sleepy-head in the morning, and always +appeared to “get out of bed on the wrong side.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_104" id="pg_104">104</a></span>However, Nancy left Number 30 without disturbing her roommate on this +morning and, well wrapped up against the biting cold, slipped downstairs +and out of one of the rear doors. The front door of Pinewood Hall had +not been unchained at that hour.</p> + +<p>She was the first girl out and it was an hour yet to breakfast time. She +ran straight through the pine woods at the back, passing the gymnasium +and frozen courts, and so down to the river.</p> + +<p>A pale moon still hung low on the horizon. The river seemed as black as +ink and not a ripple appeared upon its surface.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear! it’s not frozen at all,” was Nancy’s, first thought.</p> + +<p>And then she saw the sheen of the moonlight across the black surface.</p> + +<p>“That never is water in the world!” she gasped, and half running, half +sliding, descended the steep bank to the verge of the river.</p> + +<p>The wide expanse of the stream proved to be sheathed entirely in black, +new ice.</p> + +<p>Nancy uttered a cry of delight and touched it with one strongly-shod +foot, and then the other. It rang under her heel—there was not a single +crack of protest. It bore her weight as firmly as a rock.</p> + +<p>Breathlessly Nancy tried it farther out. The <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_105" id="pg_105">105</a></span>keen frost of a single +night had chained the river firmly. She slid a little way. Then she ran +for momentum, and slid smoothly, well balanced from her hips, with her +feet wide spread. Her red lips opened with a sigh of delight. Her eyes +sparkled and the hair was tossed back from under her woolen cap.</p> + +<p>“Great! Great!” she cried aloud, when she came to a stop.</p> + +<p>She went back down the slide. Her boots rang on the ice as though it +were steel. Again and again she slid until there was a well-defined path +upon the ice—a path at least ten yards long.</p> + +<p>But the horizon grew rosy-red and the dropping moon paled into +insignificance. This warned her that the breakfast call would soon sound +and she left the ice reluctantly and ran back to the hall.</p> + +<p>Before she reached the kitchens the sun popped up and she ran in the +path made by its glowing rays across the frozen fields.</p> + +<p>It was so cold that the early rising girls were hugging the radiators in +the big hall when Nancy came in from the rear, all in a delightful glow. +Some of them nodded to her. One girl even said:</p> + +<p>“You’ve got pluck to go out for your constitutional a morning like this, +Miss Nelson.”</p> + +<p>But to Nancy’s ear it seemed as though the girl said it in a patronizing +way. She was a junior. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_106" id="pg_106">106</a></span>Nobody else spoke to the freshman. So Nancy had +the secret of the frozen river to herself. She meant to go skating that +day if she could.</p> + +<p>Every morning the girls of Pinewood Hall took their places after +breakfast—class by class—in the hall which balanced the dining room in +the other wing of the big house. A brief service of a devotional +character always began the real work of the day. Usually Madame Schakael +presided at these exercises. And sometimes she had that to say before +dismissing the girls that showed them that she had a keen oversight of +the school’s manners and morals.</p> + +<p>“I know,” she said, on this morning, standing upon the footstool which +was always kept behind the desk-pulpit for her; “I know that many of you +have been watching and waiting, with great eagerness, for the skating +season to set in. Jack Frost, young ladies, seldom disappoints us here +at Pinewood Hall. The river is frozen over.”</p> + +<p>Here her remarks were punctuated by applause, and some suppressed “Oh, +goodies!” The Madame smiled indulgently at this enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>“Our rules regarding the sport are pretty well understood, I believe. No +skating save during certain designated hours, and never unless Mr. +Pease, or the under gardener, is at the boathouse. Bounds extend from +the railroad bridge up the <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_107" id="pg_107">107</a></span>river toward town, to the Big Bend half a +mile below our boathouse. The girl who skates out of bounds—they are +plain enough—will not skate again for a month. Don’t forget that, +girls.</p> + +<p>“And now, for the rule that has always been in force at Pinewood,” +pursued the Madame, more earnestly, “and the one to which I must demand +perfect obedience.</p> + +<p>“No girl is to try the ice by herself. No venturesome one must go down +there and try the ice without Mr. Pease, or Samuel, being on hand. +Remember!</p> + +<p>“And,” said Madame Schakael, slowly, “I hear that there has already been +somebody on the ice this morning. Whether it was one of you girls, or +not, we do not know. But when Mr. Pease came to report to me that the +ice was safe for skating he informed me that somebody had been sliding +down there, early as it was when he reached the river.</p> + +<p>“If any girl has broken our ironclad rule on this point, I want to know +it. I expect to see that girl at once after prayers. Of course, if +nobody here is guilty we must believe that some passer-by ventured down +upon the river while crossing Pinewood estate.</p> + +<p>“Now, young ladies, I need say nothing more on this subject, I believe. +After recitations to-day, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_108" id="pg_108">108</a></span>those who wish may enjoy the pleasure and +exercise of ice-skating. The boathouse will be warmed. Samuel will be +there to sharpen skates for those who wish. And he can supply you with +extra straps or other appliances. You understand that he makes a little +extra money that way, and I approve of it.”</p> + +<p>Then she touched the rising bell, and instantly the girls arose and a +bustle of low converse and the rustle of dresses and clack of shoes on +the polished floor made up the usual confusion of sounds as the girls +separated for their classrooms. Nearly four hundred girls manage to make +considerable noise.</p> + +<p>Nancy went immediately to the Madame’s office. It was the first time she +had ever been called there; it was the first time, indeed, that she had +ever been accused of any kind of a fault since arriving at the school.</p> + +<p>So she did not feel very happy. She had not known of the rule which +Madame Schakael had said was so well understood. She had not meant to +break the law.</p> + +<p>But she could see very clearly that the rule was a just one. She had no +business to venture on the ice without asking permission. And her heart +throbbed and her face flushed and paled by turns as she waited for the +principal to appear.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_109" id="pg_109">109</a></span>But when Madame Schakael entered the anteroom she was not alone. Nancy, +from within, heard another voice—a shrill and unpleasant voice which +she very well knew.</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t care what you say, Madame, it <i>was</i> her. There’s no other +girl in the whole school who gets up so early and disturbs us other +girls—so now! She’s stirring around half the night, I declare! And she +was the <i>only</i> girl out of doors this morning so early.”</p> + +<p>“And she is your roommate; is she, Miss Rathmore?” interrupted the +Madame’s smooth, low voice.</p> + +<p>“Well! I never wanted her! I wrote home and told my mother she was a +nobody——”</p> + +<p>“Your mother was kind enough to write to me on the subject,” said the +principal of Pinewood Hall. “But I could not allow any change in the +dormitory arrangements for the inconsequential reasons given. Nancy +Nelson is quite the same as any other girl at the Hall. I wish to hear +nothing more on <i>that</i> topic, Cora.</p> + +<p>“But this other matter, of course, is different. If a rule has been +broken of course I must take cognizance of it. And I feel sure that if +your roommate was the person on the ice this morning, she will report +the fact to me herself——”</p> + +<p>She pushed the office door wide open. Nancy <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_110" id="pg_110">110</a></span>had listened to this +conversation perforce. There had been no escape for her.</p> + +<p>“Ah! As I expected,” said the doll-like little woman, smiling calmly at +Nancy. “You see how mistaken one may be, Cora? Nancy is here ahead of +us.”</p> + +<p>Cora Rathmore shrank back from the door with a very red face. Nancy’s +eyes flashed as she looked at her ill-natured roommate. She realized +well enough that Cora had deliberately—and without sufficient evidence +herself—tried to get her into trouble with the principal.</p> + +<p>Cora was not easily embarrassed, however. In a moment she shot the other +girl a scornful glance and, without a word to Madame Schakael, walked +out of the office. It really did seem as though it was Nancy who had +done the wrong, instead of her roommate.</p> + +<p>“You are here to see me, Miss Nelson?” asked the Madame, briskly, +ignoring the other girl and her report.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Madame.”</p> + +<p>“Because of what I said at prayers?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Madame.”</p> + +<p>“You are a new girl. Did you not know of the rule that all girls must +keep off the river until it is pronounced safe by Mr. Pease?”</p> + +<p>“I did not know of the rule. And I did not <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_111" id="pg_111">111</a></span>think that I was doing wrong +when I went on the ice this morning,” returned Nancy, quietly.</p> + +<p>“I believe you, Miss Nelson. You are excused. Don’t do it again. I can’t +afford to have any of my girls drowned—especially one who stands as +well as you do in the weekly reports,” and the little woman patted her +on her cheek and smiled.</p> + +<p>“You may go skating this afternoon, if you wish, and if you are perfect +in your recitations, as I suppose you will be,” continued Madame +Schakael. “Wait, my dear! Here are two letters for you. They are both +from Mr. Henry Gordon’s office, and I presume they are from him. I make +it a rule never to open letters from the parents or guardians of my +girls; other letters, you understand, must be scrutinized unless the +correspondence has already been arranged for.”</p> + +<p>She passed the wondering Nancy two businesslike looking envelopes with +the card printed in the corner of “Ambrose, Necker & Boles.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Madame,” said the girl, and hurried away to her first class +with the letters fairly burning a hole in her pocket.</p> + +<p>There would be no opportunity before the first intermission—at 10:30 +o’clock—to look at their contents.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_112" id="pg_112">112</a></span> +<a name="THE_FIRST_ADVANCE_3080" id="THE_FIRST_ADVANCE_3080"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>THE FIRST ADVANCE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Madame Schakael had prophesied that Nancy would be perfect in her +recitations that day, and so there would be no doubt of her being able +to go skating on the river. But with the unexpected letters from Mr. +Gordon’s office unopened, it seemed hardly probable that Nancy would +pull through the day without a reprimand.</p> + +<p>“What <i>is</i> the matter with you, Miss Nelson?” demanded one of the +teachers sharply, when Nancy had made an unusually brainless answer to a +very simple question.</p> + +<p>Nancy came out of her haze with a sharp shock.</p> + +<p>“Why—why, Miss Maybrick, I know very much better than that,” she +admitted.</p> + +<p>“Where is your mind, then, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“I—I——”</p> + +<p>Nancy was usually frankness personified, and she blurted it out now:</p> + +<p>“I’m wondering what is in the two letters I have in my pocket, Miss +Maybrick.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_113" id="pg_113">113</a></span>“Where did you get them?” demanded the suspicious teacher.</p> + +<p>“Madame Schakael gave them to me. I suppose they are from my guar——” +No! she could not claim Henry Gordon as her guardian. “From the +gentleman who pays my bills here,” she added, in a lower voice.</p> + +<p>“Well, for mercy’s sake go to your seat and read them,” said the +instructor, but more mildly. “They may be important. And having mastered +their contents, please try to master the lesson.”</p> + +<p>Nancy did as she was bid. With trembling fingers she opened one of the +envelopes. They both were typewritten as to address; but one seemed +addressed by an amateur in the art of typewriting. Nancy opened the +other first.</p> + +<p>The enclosure was a slip of paper on which was written in a hurried +scrawl:</p> + +<p class='mtr5 mbr5'>“You may need something extra. This is for your own + use.—H. <span class="sc">Gordon</span>.”</p> + +<p>And wrapped in this paper was a crisp twenty-dollar bill!</p> + +<p>Nancy had scarcely spent a penny of her carefully hoarded pocket money +since coming to Pinewood Hall. Indeed, she had found no opportunity for +using it.</p> + +<p>There had been plenty of secret “spreads” and <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_114" id="pg_114">114</a></span>“fudge orgies” in other +rooms. Cora had been to a lot of them, and had always slipped back into +Number 30 without being caught by any prowling teacher.</p> + +<p>But of course Nancy had been invited to contribute to none of these, and +she was a particularly healthy girl with a particularly healthy +appetite: so she did not crave “sponge cake and pickles,” or other +combinations of forbidden fruits supposed to be the boarding-school +misses’ extreme delight.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon had sent the banknote to her without any more feeling, +seemingly, than he would have had in throwing a bone to a dog. Yet, it +might be his way of showing her sympathy. Nancy slipped it back in the +envelope and picked up the second letter.</p> + +<p>And before she opened this she believed she knew what it contained. She +had not forgotten “Scorch” O’Brien. Scorch had promised to watch “Old +Gordon” and write to her. He had used one of the office envelopes and +had stolen a minute when some typewriter was not in use.</p> + +<p>Madame Schakael thought both letters were from Mr. Gordon. Nancy was too +curious as to what Scorch had written to deny herself the reading of the +contraband epistle.</p> + +<p>It was much blotted and the scrawl characteristic of an office boy’s +chirography proved that his <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_115" id="pg_115">115</a></span>terms at public school had not done Scorch +much good. This was the letter:</p> + +<p class='ni mtr5'>“<span class="sc">Nancy Nelson</span>,</p> + +<p class='ni'>Dear Miss:</p> + +<p>I guess you haven’t forgotten Scorch O’Brien. That’s me. I said I’d +rite if I got a line on Old Gordon, that he was doing you queer. I +bet he is, but I don’t know nothing for sure yet. I put a twist on +him this morning and I see a letter now in the male-basket for you, +so I says to myself, ‘Scorch, what you said took like vaccination.’ +Ouch! me arm hurts yet!</p> + +<p>Well, I says to Old G., says I, ‘What’s come of the girl what blew +me to lunch at the Arrandale? She was some swell little dame, she +was.’</p> + +<p>Says he, ‘Mind your own business, Scorch. That’s a good motto for +you to paste up over your desk.’</p> + +<p>‘Nix,’ says I. ‘If I didn’t mind everybody else’s biz in this +office the whole joint would go to grass.’ And that’s right. ‘That +girl’s just the same as in jail at that boarding-school,’ says I. +‘Have you forgotten her?’</p> + +<p>‘How’d I remember?’ says he, looking sort of queer.</p> + +<p>‘Come across with a piece of change for her,’ says me—I’m +practerkal, I be. Money always comes in handy; now, don’t it? Write +an’ tell me if he took my tip. And no more now, from,</p> + +<p class='r ni nm' style='margin-right:8em;'>“Yours respectfully,</p> +<p class='r ni mbr5 sc' style='margin-right:0;'>“Scorch O’Brien.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_116" id="pg_116">116</a></span>It was Scorch all over—that letter! Nancy Nelson came near laughing +right out in the classroom; but she could cram both letters into her +pocket and go on with her studies with a more composed mind.</p> + +<p>Scorch was evidently her friend. And eminently practical, as he +declared. Nothing could be more practical than that twenty-dollar bill. +And the red-haired Irish boy had put it into Mr. Gordon’s mind to send +her this substantial tip.</p> + +<p>She took the twenty-dollar bill out and looked at it again. It was very +real.</p> + +<p>Cora Rathmore sat behind her in this class. Nancy happened to turn about +as she slipped the banknote out of sight again, and she saw that her +roommate was looking hard at her. Nancy turned away herself. She was +angrier with Cora than she had ever been before since the opening of +Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p>Jennie Bruce, one of the girls of her class whom Nancy admired the most, +leaned over and whispered to her:</p> + +<p>“Goodness me! but you are the wealthy girl. Was that real money, or just +stage money?”</p> + +<p>Jennie was a thin, snappy girl, with dancing eyes, a continual smile, +and as elusive as a drop of mercury. She just couldn’t keep still, and +she was always getting minor marks in deportment <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_117" id="pg_117">117</a></span>because her sense of +fun was sure to bubble over at inopportune times.</p> + +<p>“I—I guess it’s real money,” whispered Nancy, although talking during +lessons was frowned on by all the instructors.</p> + +<p>But Nancy was only too glad when Jennie Bruce spoke to her. She was just +a little afraid of Jennie’s sharp tongue; and yet she had never been the +butt of any of the harum-scarum’s jokes. Perhaps Jennie had spared Nancy +because the latter was so much alone. The fun-loving one was not cruel.</p> + +<p>“Twen-ty-dol-lars,” whispered Jennie, with big eyes. “You certainly are +rich. What a lot of pickles that would buy!” and she grinned.</p> + +<p>Nancy smiled. She knew that Jennie was only in fun when she suggested +such an expenditure. But the thought smote the lonely girl’s mind that +by the spending of this money in “treating” she might gain a certain +popularity among the other girls.</p> + +<p>Really, that was what made Grace Montgomery so popular. She had more +money to spend than almost any other girl in the school—in the freshman +class, at least. Nancy asked herself seriously if she should strive to +make friendships through such a channel.</p> + +<p>Young as she was, the girl had serious thoughts at times, and this was +one of the times. She hid <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_118" id="pg_118">118</a></span>the money in the bosom of her dress and at +recess said nothing about it, although she saw several of the girls +whispering and pointing her out.</p> + +<p>But the most surprising thing that happened was Cora coming to her +almost as soon as they were released from the classrooms for a short run +in the basement recreation room.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you think I’m a mean thing,” said the black-eyed girl, +glancing at Nancy askance.</p> + +<p>“I’ll leave it for you to say,” returned Nancy. “If I had run to Madame +Schakael with a story about you——”</p> + +<p>“How do you know I went to her?” snapped Cora. “She asked me where you +were. You slipped into her office so quick that she thought you were +trying to get out of it, of course. She knew all the time that you were +the girl who had been on the ice.”</p> + +<p>Now, Nancy did not believe this at all; but she said nothing to show +Cora that she distrusted her first friendly (?) advance.</p> + +<p>“Anyway,” said the black-eyed one, “she <i>did</i> ask me about you, and if +you were out early, as usual. Oh! you can’t fool the Madame.”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t want to try,” observed Nancy, quietly.</p> + +<p>“Well! if you didn’t act so offish we girls would like to be friends +with you,” said Cora, tucking <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_119" id="pg_119">119</a></span>her arm into Nancy’s. “Going skating this +afternoon?”</p> + +<p>This was the first time any girl at Pinewood Hall had ever walked in a +“chummy” manner with Nancy. But to tell the truth, Nancy was not sure +whether this overture towards peace on the part of her roommate really +meant anything or not.</p> + +<p>There were lots of the girls whom she thought she would like better than +Cora—or her friends. There was the lively Jennie Bruce, for instance. +Nancy often watched her flitting back and forth, from group to group, +being “hail-fellow-well-met” with them all. Jennie made friends without +putting forth any effort, it seemed.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I wish I had Jennie for a roommate,” thought Nancy Nelson. “I +really would be happy then, I do believe.”</p> + +<p>But this day seemed not to be a bad one for Nancy, after all. Cora +waited for her, with her skates, after recitations were over, and they +joined a party of Cora’s chums on the way to the river.</p> + +<p>Grace Montgomery was not among these; Grace never had a word for Nancy, +so the younger girl kept away from the senator’s daughter.</p> + +<p>But the river was broad, and the ice was like glass, and in the +exhilaration of the sport Nancy forgot snubs and back-biting, and all +the ill-natured <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_120" id="pg_120">120</a></span>slights under which she had suffered since becoming a +dweller in Number 30, West Side, Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p>She noted one thing that afternoon. Few of the girls skated toward the +railroad bridge; but most of them to the school bounds in the other +direction. The reason for skating down the river instead of up Nancy did +not at first understand. Then she heard some of Cora’s friends talking +and laughing about it.</p> + +<p>“Guess the old doctor has a grouch again. Isn’t that mean? There isn’t a +boy in sight.”</p> + +<p>“Not one!”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it horrid of him?” cried another.</p> + +<p>“I’ll wager the old doctor has a channel sawed through the ice at the +bend here before he lets the boys out,” declared a third.</p> + +<p>“I <i>did</i> want so to see Bob Endress,” Grace Montgomery complained. “I +want him to bring a lot of nice boys home from the Academy at the +holidays, so as to have them at my party.”</p> + +<p>It struck Nancy that she had heard this Bob Endress spoken of before; +but she had no idea that there was any reason why <i>she</i> should be +interested in him.</p> + +<p>The girls came in from the ice half an hour before supper, cold, tired, +but merry. Nancy ran up to tidy her hair and wash. She found two of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_121" id="pg_121">121</a></span>Cora’s chief chums in Number 30; but Cora herself chanced to be out.</p> + +<p>These girls did not even notice Nancy when she came in. But that was not +strange. Often a dozen would come and go at Number 30 without once +speaking to the quiet little girl who occupied one-half of the +dormitory.</p> + +<p>“Well, you take it from me,” one was saying to the other while Nancy +brushed her hair, “she’s got to do her share. It looks to me as though +she was sponging.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, do you think so?”</p> + +<p>“Everybody else has put up for a fudge party, or something of the kind, +while she hasn’t done a thing.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe she hasn’t the money?”</p> + +<p>“Then she shouldn’t be in on all the other girls’ good times. And she +wouldn’t be if she didn’t toady so to Grace.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, now——”</p> + +<p>“That’s right. Lou would have left her out of the pound party last week, +only of course Grace demanded to look over the list of invited guests.”</p> + +<p>“Well! I <i>do</i> think Grace takes too much upon herself sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“She’s going to be class president. Voting comes just before the +Christmas holidays, and when we come back we’ll know who gets the chair. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_122" id="pg_122">122</a></span>Madame doesn’t allow the freshies to organize until then. Well! Cora’s +got to do different.”</p> + +<p>“Mamie Beasley says she isn’t going to invite her to her tea on Friday. +And, you know, the teachers approve of afternoon teas. It makes for +sociability, they say.”</p> + +<p>“But Cora——”</p> + +<p>“Hush-up!” commanded another. “Want everybody to hear you?” and she +motioned toward Nancy. The latter saw her in the glass.</p> + +<p>So the two went out. Nancy wondered if Cora was so popular, after all. +If it <i>was</i> Cora of whom the two were speaking.</p> + +<p>She noted, however, that for a day or two Cora remained in her room, and +few of her friends visited her. This suited Nancy very well, even if she +did not like her roommate. The dormitory was quieter and one could +study.</p> + +<p>“My mother’s just as mean as she can be!” blurted out Cora one day when +she and Nancy were alone. “She won’t give me another cent of +pocket-money until the week we go home for Christmas. And I spent all my +allowance right away when school opened. Did you, Nancy?”</p> + +<p>“Did I what?” asked Nancy, looking up from her book.</p> + +<p>“Have you spent all your allowance?”</p> + +<p>“No-o,” said Nancy slowly, not quite sure that <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_123" id="pg_123">123</a></span>she <i>had</i> an allowance, +Mr. Gordon gave her money so irregularly.</p> + +<p>“Lucky girl! And I promised I’d give the crowd a big blow-out here next +week. I sent to mother for the money, and told her about it, and she +won’t even send me another box of goodies.”</p> + +<p>“That is too bad,” observed Nancy, with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it?” exclaimed Cora. “And they’ll all say Number 30 is so mean! I +hate to have our room get <i>that</i> name.”</p> + +<p>This was the first time that Nancy had supposed Cora cared anything for +the reputation of the room. Certainly, she had never before appeared to +consider that Nancy and she had anything in common.</p> + +<p>“You see, we’re just freshmen, and the sophs criticise us so. I got +acquainted with Belle Macdonald and some of those other girls away back +last spring. They expect us freshies to treat them if we want their +friendship.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think that friendships bought in that way last; do you?” asked +Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Say! how do you expect to get popular in a school like this?” demanded +Cora, in disgust.</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know,” sighed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“How is it Grace is so popular?” cried Cora Rathmore. “Why, she’s always +doing something <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_124" id="pg_124">124</a></span>to get the other girls interested. She’s going to be +our class president.”</p> + +<p>Nancy said nothing. She wondered if Grace Montgomery, after all, was +quite as popular as Cora thought.</p> + +<p>“I tell you what,” said the black-eyed girl, suddenly, “let’s have a +party in here, anyway?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I—I don’t know anything about giving a party,” confessed Nancy. +“And I’m afraid the girls wouldn’t come.”</p> + +<p>“Sure they will—in a minute!” declared Cora, confidently. “All I’ve got +to do is to tell ’em. You see, I’ve been making friends in Pinewood +Hall, while you’ve been ‘boning.’ Some of them think you are too stiff.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mean to be,” protested Nancy, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>“Well, here’s a chance for you to show ’em. You say you’ve got some +money left?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes.”</p> + +<p>“How much?” asked Cora, bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Well—I’ve got more than twenty dollars,” confessed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Crickey-me!” gasped Cora. “Twenty dollars? Why, we’d give the dandiest +kind of a spread—salad, and ice cream, and cakes—Oh, crickey-me! that +would be great.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_125" id="pg_125">125</a></span>“But what would Corinne say?” blurted out Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Hah! those big girls have after-lights-out spreads, too. That Canuck +won’t dare say a word.”</p> + +<p>“But some of the teachers——”</p> + +<p>“You needn’t borrow trouble,” said Cora. “Of course, if you don’t want +to do it——”</p> + +<p>“I—I——”</p> + +<p>“Sure, you understand that I’ll pay my half,” went on Cora, eagerly. +“All you got to do is to lend me the money until Christmas time.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s not it!” cried Nancy, who was naturally a generous-hearted +girl.</p> + +<p>“Then you’re in for it?”</p> + +<p>“If—if you think the other girls will like it?”</p> + +<p>“Sure they will!” cried Cora. “Hurrah! Now, you leave it to me. I’ll +tell Grace first of all, and we’ll pick out a nice crowd. Why, with +twenty dollars we can have at least twenty girls.”</p> + +<p>Nancy began to enthuse a little herself. She longed so to be friendly +with her own class, especially. There was Jennie Bruce, the fun-loving +girl, and several others whom she particularly liked. Of course, they +would all have to be domiciled in the West Side. No girl could cross +from one side of the Hall to the other after curfew without being +observed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_126" id="pg_126">126</a></span>And the spread which Cora planned was not to begin until all the lights +were out and the teacher, whose turn it was to be on that night, had +gone her rounds to see that all the dormitories were quiet.</p> + +<p>“We’ll take a night when Maybrick is on, if we can,” said Cora. “She +goes to bed to sleep! No prowling around for her after she has once +decided that all the chickens are on the roost.”</p> + +<p>And Nancy, with a suspicion deep in her mind that it was all wrong, and +yet willing to suffer much for the sake of gaining “popularity,” +so-called, allowed Cora to go ahead with the preparations for the coming +surreptitious feast.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_127" id="pg_127">127</a></span> +<a name="IT_PROVES_DISASTROUS_3503" id="IT_PROVES_DISASTROUS_3503"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>IT PROVES DISASTROUS</h3> +</div> + +<p>Nancy might have given too much thought and time to the coming “midnight +spread,” and neglected her lessons a bit had Cora Rathmore not taken the +entire arrangements for the affair into her own hands. Cora did not seem +to mind getting only “fair” marked on her weekly reports. She just +shrugged her shoulders and said:</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> should worry!”</p> + +<p>But before Nancy plucked up the courage to say anything about who was to +be invited she found that Cora had already seen to that—Cora and Grace +Montgomery.</p> + +<p>“I’d like to have Jennie Bruce come,” Nancy suggested timidly one day.</p> + +<p>“Goodness! why didn’t you say so before?” snapped Cora.</p> + +<p>“Why? Won’t there be room for her?”</p> + +<p>“We’ve made up the whole list, and the girls have been invited. We +couldn’t squeeze in another girl.”</p> + +<p>“Why—why, who made up the list?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_128" id="pg_128">128</a></span>“Grace and I. Here it is,” and Cora snapped a paper upon Nancy’s desk.</p> + +<p>Nancy read it over without comment. There wasn’t a girl invited to the +party at Number 30, West Side, whom Nancy liked any better than she did +Cora herself! She began to doubt if the coming entertainment was going +to be a success—as far as she was concerned—after all.</p> + +<p>The girls ran in to see Cora again. Even Grace appeared in Number 30. +But none of them spoke more than perfunctorily to Nancy, and the lonely +girl felt herself as much “out of it” as ever.</p> + +<p>But she had one enjoyment now that made up for many previous lonely +hours at the school. She could skate!</p> + +<p>Clinton River remained frozen over; the ice grew thicker and the +lodgekeeper and Samuel reported each morning that it was perfectly safe.</p> + +<p>The boys from the Academy, too, appeared. Nancy was not much interested +in them—only curious. Even the girls of her own class seemed to be very +desirous of making acquaintances among the Academy boys.</p> + +<p>“You see,” Jennie Bruce told her, “after the holidays we have +entertainments at the Hall, and Dr. Dudley lets his boys give a minstrel +show. We each have a dance during the winter—one at the Academy and one +at the Hall; and if you know <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_129" id="pg_129">129</a></span>some of the boys beforehand it’s lots +easier to get partners at the dance.”</p> + +<p>“I’d just as lief dance with another girl, I think,” said Nancy, +timidly.</p> + +<p>“Pshaw! that’s no fun,” returned Jennie.</p> + +<p>“I never <i>did</i> dance with a boy,” admitted Nancy. “Where—where I lived +only the girls danced together.”</p> + +<p>“Where was that?” demanded Jennie.</p> + +<p>“At school,” said Nancy, blushing, and sorry she had said so much now.</p> + +<p>“Oh! a ‘kid’ school?” laughed Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Well—yes.”</p> + +<p>“Where was it?”</p> + +<p>“It—it was a long way from here,” responded Nancy, slowly.</p> + +<p>She couldn’t bear to tell even Jennie—with whom she so desired to be +friends—where Higbee School was located. Of course, Jennie noticed this +point of mystery, and she looked at Nancy curiously. The latter couldn’t +find another word to say.</p> + +<p>She skated off by herself. The ringing ice was delightful. Nancy skated +as well as any boy, while she was naturally—being a girl—more graceful +in her motions.</p> + +<p>She sped like a dart across the river, came around in a great curve, +like a bird tacking against <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_130" id="pg_130">130</a></span>a stiff breeze, and then started back “on +the roll.”</p> + +<p>Hands in her jersey pockets, her skates tapping the ice firmly as she +bore her weight first on one, then on the other foot, Nancy seemed +fairly to float over the frozen river.</p> + +<p>She saw a group of girls and boys standing about where the Hall boundary +was; but she did not recognize any of them until she was rolling past. +Then she heard Grace Montgomery’s shrill voice:</p> + +<p>“Oh, she’s only showing off. Her name’s Nelson. Cora knows all about +her.”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t,” snapped Cora Rathmore’s voice. “But she’s chummed on me.”</p> + +<p>Nancy heard no more. She didn’t want to. She realized that, after all, +behind her back these girls were speaking just as unkindly of her as +ever.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she realized that the group had broken up. At least, one of the +boys had darted out of it and was racing down toward her.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with you, Bob?” she heard Grace call after the boy.</p> + +<p>“Say! I know that girl,” a cheerful voice declared, and the next moment +the speaker, bending low, and racing like a dart, reached Nancy’s side.</p> + +<p>“Hold on! Don’t you remember me?” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_131" id="pg_131">131</a></span>Nancy looked at him, startled. His plump, rosy, smiling face instantly +reflected an image in her memory.</p> + +<p>“I’m Bob Endress,” he said. “But if it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t +have had any name at all—or anything else in life. Don’t you remember?”</p> + +<p>It was the boy who had been saved from the millrace that August +afternoon. Of course Nancy couldn’t have forgotten him. But she was so +confused she did not know what to say for the moment.</p> + +<p>“You haven’t forgotten throwing that tire to me?” he cried. “Why! that +was the smartest thing! The chauffeur would never have thought of it. +And Grace and those other girls would have been about as much use as so +many mice. You were as good as a boy, <i>you</i> were. I’d have been +drowned.”</p> + +<p>“I—I’m glad you weren’t,” she gasped.</p> + +<p>“Then you remember me?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes. I couldn’t forget your face.”</p> + +<p>“Well!” he cried, “I never did expect to see you around this part of the +country. But I told father I wanted to go back there to Malden next +summer and see if I couldn’t come across you. And my mother wrote to a +friend there about you, too. We all wanted to know who you were.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_132" id="pg_132">132</a></span>“I—I am Nancy Nelson,” said the girl, timidly.</p> + +<p>“Sure! Grace, or somebody, was just speaking of you,” said the boy. “You +see, I was motoring through that country on the way to Chicago, in +Senator Montgomery’s car. That was a pretty spot at that old mill and +the girls saw the lilies. So I had to wade in for them—like a chump,” +and he laughed.</p> + +<p>“It <i>was</i> dangerous, I suppose,” confessed Nancy. “But I often longed to +wade in myself for them.”</p> + +<p>“And you got them anyway!” he cried, bursting into another laugh. “Grace +and the others were sore about it. They had to wait until we got to the +next town before we found any more lilies. Then I got a boat and went +after them.”</p> + +<p>Nancy had stopped skating, and she and the boy stood side by side, +talking. What the Montgomery girl and her friends would think about this +Nancy did not at the time imagine.</p> + +<p>“But it’s funny Grace didn’t recognize you,” said Bob, suddenly.</p> + +<p>“No. In the confusion they wouldn’t have noticed me very closely,” Nancy +replied.</p> + +<p>“Well! I don’t see how Grace could have missed knowing such a jolly girl +as you.”</p> + +<p>His boyish, outspoken opinion amused Nancy. Although Bob was at least +three years her senior <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_133" id="pg_133">133</a></span>she soon became self-possessed. Girls are that +way—usually.</p> + +<p>“You’re a dandy skater,” said Bob. “Will you skate with me?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; if you want me to,” replied Nancy.</p> + +<p>She had never skated with a boy before. They crossed hands and started +off on the long roll. Nancy was just as sturdy on her skates as the boy. +It was delightful to cross the ice so easily, yet swiftly, and feel that +one’s partner was perfectly secure, too.</p> + +<p>And Bob Endress was such a nice boy. Nancy decided that her first good +opinion of him, formed when she had seen him wading in the millpond +after water-lilies, was correct. He was gentlemanly, frank, and as jolly +as could be.</p> + +<p>She remembered very well now that she had heard various other girls at +Pinewood Hall talk of Bob Endress. He was some distant connection of the +haughty Grace Montgomery.</p> + +<p>And he had left Grace and all those other girls in a minute to renew his +odd acquaintance with Nancy.</p> + +<p>The latter could not fail to feel a glow all through her at this +thought. She had all the aspirations of other girls. She wanted to be +liked by people—even by boys. And Bob was evidently a great favorite +with her schoolmates.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_134" id="pg_134">134</a></span>Round and round the course they skated. It seemed to Nancy as though +she never would tire with such a partner. And she forgot that the girls +Bob had deserted might be offended with her. For once—a tiny, short +hour—Nancy Nelson was perfectly happy.</p> + +<p>Until the distant chime in the tower of Pinewood Hall warned the girls +that they must go in, Nancy and Bob skimmed over the ice to the envy of +less accomplished skaters. Nancy came back to the boathouse all in a +glow, after promising to meet Bob the next afternoon on the river.</p> + +<p>There were Grace Montgomery and Cora, and Belle Macdonald, and the +others of their clique, taking off their skates. Nancy felt so happy +that she would have made friends, just then, with almost anyone.</p> + +<p>She flung off her skates and smiled at the other girls. She smiled at +Samuel when she asked him, to sharpen them against the next afternoon, +and tipped him for his trouble.</p> + +<p>But whereas the under gardener smiled in return and praised her skating, +the girls stared at her as though she were a complete stranger. Grace +turned her back contemptuously. Cora scowled blackly.</p> + +<p>And when she was back in Number 30, West Side, making ready for supper, +her roommate <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_135" id="pg_135">135</a></span>came in noisily, tossed her skates on the floor, and burst +out with:</p> + +<p>“Well! you’re a nice girl, <i>you</i> are!”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter now?” asked Nancy, with more courage than usual.</p> + +<p>“I should think you’d ask!”</p> + +<p>“I <i>do</i> ask,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Well, you’ve just about spoiled my—our—party.”</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“You know well enough,” snapped Cora.</p> + +<p>“I do not,” declared Nancy. “I have done nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! Just walking off with Bob Endress and keeping him all the +afternoon. Why, Grace is his cousin—and she’ll never forgive you.”</p> + +<p>It was on the tip of Nancy’s tongue to say she didn’t care; but instead +she remained silent.</p> + +<p>“I had the hardest work to coax her to come to-night,” went on Cora.</p> + +<p>This was the evening marked for the spread in Number 30.</p> + +<p>“I do not see that I have done anything to you girls,” said Nancy, with +some warmth. “I happened to know Bob Endress——”</p> + +<p>“How did <i>you</i> come to know Bob? He never said anything about it,” +snapped Cora.</p> + +<p>“Well, I can assure you we were acquainted.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_136" id="pg_136">136</a></span>“It’s certainly very strange,” said the other girl, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see that it is anybody’s business but our own,” Nancy Nelson +returned, with growing confidence. “And I did not mean to offend either +you or Miss Montgomery.”</p> + +<p>“It’s very strange.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know how you will explain it to Grace.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t have to,” said Nancy, and now she <i>was</i> getting angry.</p> + +<p>“Let me tell you, Miss, you will have to,” cried Cora, more snappishly +than ever.</p> + +<p>“I do not see why.”</p> + +<p>“Let me tell you Grace Montgomery is the most influential and popular +girl in our class. You’ll find that out if you continue to offend her.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see how I have offended her; nor do I see how I can pacify her +if she is angry with me,” returned Nancy, doggedly.</p> + +<p>“You’d better let Bob Endress alone, then,” cried Cora.</p> + +<p>“Why! how meanly you talk,” said Nancy, fairly white now with anger.</p> + +<p>“Well! there’s something very strange about how you took him right away +from us——”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t stop talking like that,” Nancy <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_137" id="pg_137">137</a></span>answered, her eyes +blazing, “I shall not speak to you at all.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you’ve got to explain to Grace, then.”</p> + +<p>“I will explain nothing to her.”</p> + +<p>“Then you mean to spoil our party to-night?”</p> + +<p>“No. It isn’t <i>my</i> party, that is evident. I’ll go into some other room +while you are holding it, if that’s what you want.”</p> + +<p>Cora looked at her askance. Nancy had never shown any temper before +since the term had opened. Cora did not really know whether her roommate +would do as she said, or not.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we’re not dying to have you in here. You can go to Number 38. You +know both of the girls from there will be here.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what I’ll do, then,” answered Nancy, firmly.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell Grace,” said Cora, rather uncertainly. “Then she’ll be sure +and come. Oh, she <i>is</i> mad.”</p> + +<p>“I hope she will remain mad with me as long as we are both at Pinewood!” +cried Nancy, desperately, and then she ran out of the room to hide the +tears of anger and disappointment which she could no longer keep back.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_138" id="pg_138">138</a></span> +<a name="HEAPS_OF_TROUBLE_3829" id="HEAPS_OF_TROUBLE_3829"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>HEAPS OF TROUBLE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Nancy wept as she had never wept since coming to Pinewood Hall. But she +was weeping as much for rage as for sorrow. Cora’s insulting words, and +her cruelty, had lashed Nancy’s indignation to the boiling point.</p> + +<p>She <i>could</i> spoil all their fun on this evening. She knew where all the +goodies were hidden. Most of them were in her closet, and in Cora’s. And +her money had paid for every scrap that had been smuggled in from the +Clintondale caterer’s and from the delicatessen store and grocery.</p> + +<p>She could not only stop the girls from having the spread in Number 30; +but she could stop their having it at all.</p> + +<p>However, the heat of her passion was soon over. She bathed her eyes and +flushed face and went down to supper without seeing Cora again.</p> + +<p>She did not sit near the Montgomery clique at table, anyway; but she +heard them talking and laughing during the meal, and afterward some of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_139" id="pg_139">139</a></span>them passed where Nancy sat and looked at her oddly.</p> + +<p>None of them spoke to her. All of a sudden they had dropped her again +and she was just as friendless as she had been before Cora Rathmore +suggested the secret supper.</p> + +<p>When she went back to Number 30, however, Cora followed her.</p> + +<p>“Now, I want to know just what you mean to do, Miss?” she said, standing +inside the door and scowling at Nancy.</p> + +<p>“What about?”</p> + +<p>“About the supper to-night.”</p> + +<p>“You certainly don’t need <i>me</i> at the supper,” observed Nancy, quietly.</p> + +<p>“I should hope not! But we don’t propose to have you run to the teachers +and give our secrets away.”</p> + +<p>Nancy started up from her chair and advanced a step toward her +tormentor. She really had it in her mind to box Cora’s ears—and the +black-eyed girl knew it.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you dare touch me!” she cried, shrinking back.</p> + +<p>“Then don’t you dare suggest that I’d be a telltale,” warned Nancy. “I +leave that to you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you do!”</p> + +<p>Nancy was silent, and Cora calmed down.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_140" id="pg_140">140</a></span>“Then you’ll go out for the evening?” she asked, at last.</p> + +<p>“Gladly,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Mabel and Hilary say you can stay in 38.”</p> + +<p>“Very well.”</p> + +<p>“And of course you are not going to be mean about your share of the +goodies?” asked Cora, slily.</p> + +<p>Nancy wanted to say that it seemed to her <i>all</i> the goodies were hers. +But she only tossed Cora the key of her closet.</p> + +<p>“I hope you’ll have a good time,” she said, in a low voice. “But if I +were you, Cora, and had treated anybody as meanly as you have me, I +could <i>never</i> have a good time.”</p> + +<p>“Pooh!” replied Cora, insolently. Such considerations made no impression +on her. She only thought that Nancy was “too easy for anything,” and +laughed and joked about her to Grace Montgomery.</p> + +<p>Nancy would not cry before her roommate. She spent the evening as usual +in apparently close application to the lessons for the next day; +scarcely a word was said in Number 30 until curfew at nine. The other +girls kept entirely away from the room that evening. Going back and +forth might have drawn the suspicion of Miss Maybrick to that particular +dormitory.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_141" id="pg_141">141</a></span>At bedtime the two girls occupying Number 30 undressed and got into bed +as usual. The electric lights went out on that floor. The corridors were +lighted only by caged gas jets, turned low. In each room was a candle in +an ample stick. The girls had to use these if they needed to move about +in the night, and all the after-hour spreads were illuminated by +candles, each girl participating bringing her own taper to the feast.</p> + +<p>The hour between nine and ten dragged by drearily enough. Especially was +this so for Nancy. She lay wide awake, with swollen, feverish eyes, and +waited for the ten o’clock gong.</p> + +<p>At that hour the lights on the upper floors were out and, a little +later, Miss Maybrick’s soft footfall sounded in the corridor. +Occasionally the teacher turned a knob and looked into a study. The +draperies between studies and bedrooms had to be left open so that the +teacher could cast the ray of her electric hand-lamp right in upon the +pillows of the two beds.</p> + +<p>And if there was not the proper number of heads on those pillows, an +investigation was sure to follow!</p> + +<p>Miss Maybrick was known to be a sound sleeper, however. It was pretty +safe for the girls to have their “orgies” on the nights this particular +instructor was on duty.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_142" id="pg_142">142</a></span>Miss Maybrick went past and, in a moment, Cora slipped out of bed and +to the door. In the moonlight Nancy saw her crouched beside the door, +reach up and turn the knob, open the portal a little way, and listen.</p> + +<p>The rustle of the teacher’s skirts was lost in the distance. She had +already been upon the upper floors; and now her inspection was over. The +soft closing of her own door, which was right at the head of the +stairway, came to the ears of the listening girls.</p> + +<p>Almost immediately there was a rustling and whispering in the corridor. +Cora threw the door of Number 30 open. Somebody giggled.</p> + +<p>“Come on!” whispered Cora, sharply.</p> + +<p>Nancy, feeling that it was all wrong and that no good would come of it, +slid out of bed, sought her slippers with her bare toes, wriggled her +feet into them, and seized her gray robe.</p> + +<p>She darted out of Number 30 before any of the visitors arrived, and went +to the nearest bathroom. There she waited until she was pretty sure the +twenty girls had gathered to enjoy their stolen fun.</p> + +<p>Number 38 was just across in the other short corridor. Nancy ran there, +sobbing quietly to herself. Just before she opened the door somebody +grabbed her arm.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_143" id="pg_143">143</a></span>Oh! how frightened she was for the moment. She was sure a lurking +teacher had found her out of her room.</p> + +<p>“Hush! don’t be a dunce! It’s only me,” said a kind, if sharp, voice.</p> + +<p>“Jennie Bruce!”</p> + +<p>“Of course it is. Who did you think I was—your grandmother’s ghost?” +giggled Jennie, pinching her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh!” panted Nancy.</p> + +<p>“You’re scared to death. What’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>“You were going into Number 38?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” admitted Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Well, come into my room. It’s Number 40. I’m chummed with a girl who +has gone to that party.”</p> + +<p>“You—you know about it, then?” stammered Nancy.</p> + +<p>“I should say I did.”</p> + +<p>“And your roommate was invited—and not <i>you</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Grace and her crowd aren’t in love with me,” remarked Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>“And I reckon they are not overpoweringly fond of <i>you</i>?” suggested +Jennie.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_144" id="pg_144">144</a></span>Nancy could not speak then. Jennie put her arm over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Come on into <i>my</i> bed, Nancy,” she said. “Sally will wake us up when +she comes back from the spread. I think Cora and that Montgomery girl +have treated you just as meanly as they could.”</p> + +<p>Nancy still sobbed. Jennie opened the door of Number 40 and drew her +inside.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you let them see that you care,” commanded Jennie.</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t care a—about <i>them</i>,” sobbed Nancy. “It’s—it’s because I +haven’t a friend in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t say that, honey,” urged the other girl, still holding Nancy +in her arms after they had discarded their robes and crept between the +sheets.</p> + +<p>“It—it is so,” sobbed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“You mean you haven’t made friends here at Pinewood?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t made friends anywhere,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Why—why—Surely you have some folks—some relatives——?”</p> + +<p>Nancy’s naturally frank nature overpowered her caution here. Jennie +Bruce was the first girl who had ever seemed to care about Nancy’s +troubles. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_145" id="pg_145">145</a></span>She did not seem curious—only kind. The lonely girl did the +very thing which her caution all the time had warned her would be +disastrous.</p> + +<p>She opened her heart to Jennie Bruce.</p> + +<p>“Do you know who I am?” she demanded of the surprised Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Why—what do you mean? Of course you are Nancy Nelson.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t even know if I have a right to that name.”</p> + +<p>“Mercy!”</p> + +<p>“It’s the only name I know. It seems to be the only name anybody who +knows about me, knows.”</p> + +<p>“Then it’s yours.”</p> + +<p>“How do I know <i>that</i>?” queried Nancy, bitterly. “I’m just a little Miss +Nobody.”</p> + +<p>“Goodness me! but that <i>does</i> sound romantic,” whispered Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Romantic!” cried Nancy, with scorn. “It’s nothing of the kind. You’re +as bad as Scorch.”</p> + +<p>“As bad as <i>who</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Scorch O’Brien,” replied Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Well, for goodness sake! if that doesn’t sound interesting,” cried +Jenny. “Who is Scorch O’Brien? What a perfectly ridiculous name! Why +‘Scorch?’”</p> + +<p>“He’s red-headed,” explained Nancy, doubtful <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_146" id="pg_146">146</a></span>now. She saw that she had +got herself to a point where she must tell it all—every bit of her +story—if she wished to keep Jennie’s friendship.</p> + +<p>“Bully! Scorch O’Brien is fine,” laughed Jennie. “Let’s hear all about +you, Nancy Nelson. I bet you’ve got lots of the queerest friends, only +you don’t know it. I—I’ve got nothing but brothers, and sisters, and +cousins, and all that sort of trash. The Bruces hold most all the +political offices in the town where I come from. You couldn’t throw a +stone anywhere in Hollyburg without hitting one of the family.</p> + +<p>“But just think! You’ve got no folks to bother you. There are no teasing +cousins. You haven’t got to ‘be nice’ to relatives that you fairly can’t +help hating!</p> + +<p>“Oh, I believe you’ve got it <i>good</i>, Nancy Nelson; only you don’t know +it!”</p> + +<p>So, thus encouraged, and lying in Jennie’s warm embrace, Nancy whispered +the full and particular account of the little, unknown girl who had been +brought to Higbee School, far away in Malden, nearly ten years before.</p> + +<p>She told Jennie about Miss Prentice and about the long, tedious +vacations with Miss Trigg, even down to the last one when she had helped +save Bob Endress—then a perfect stranger to her—from the millpond.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_147" id="pg_147">147</a></span>“And he knew you right away on the ice to-day? I saw him! Good for you! +He’s the most popular boy in Clinton Academy,” declared Jennie with +conviction.</p> + +<p>“But I don’t care anything about <i>that</i>,” said Nancy, honestly. “I want +the girls to like me. And I know if they learn that I am just a +nobody——”</p> + +<p>“What nonsense! You may be a great heiress. Why! maybe you belong to +royalty——”</p> + +<p>“In America!” ejaculated Nancy, the practical.</p> + +<p>“Well! they could have brought you over the ocean.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t heard of any of the royal families of Europe advertising for +a lost princess,” Nancy said, in better humor now. “And I know I don’t +look like the Turks, or the Chinese, or Hindoos, or anything like that. +I guess I’m an American, all right.”</p> + +<p>“But you must have somebody very rich belonging to you,” cried Jennie.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>“Then that Mr. Gordon must know more about you than he will tell.”</p> + +<p>“I—I am almost tempted to believe so,” admitted Nancy.</p> + +<p>“I believe it!”</p> + +<p>“Scorch says so.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_148" id="pg_148">148</a></span>“That boy is all right,” declared Jennie. “I’d like to know him.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t see how Mr. Gordon is to be made to tell what he knows—if +he <i>does</i> know more than he has admitted about me,” sighed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Neither do I—yet,” said Jennie. “But we’ll think about it. Maybe that +Scorch will find out something.”</p> + +<p>“But—really—Mr. Gordon is very kind to me. See how much money he gives +me.”</p> + +<p>“And perhaps that is only a tithe of what he steals from you.”</p> + +<p>“You’re as bad as Scorch,” declared Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Well—of course—maybe he is telling the truth, too,” said Jennie. “And +twenty dollars at one clip I—Whew!”</p> + +<p>Nancy did not tell her that the twenty dollars had paid for the supper +Grace and Cora and their friends were enjoying in Number 30 at that very +moment.</p> + +<p>“But I tell you what,” said Jennie, after a bit, and speaking +reflectively.</p> + +<p>“Yes?”</p> + +<p>“Just give Bob Endress the tip to say nothing to the other girls about +how he first met you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you see? If Cora and Grace find out where you lived before you +came to Pinewood <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_149" id="pg_149">149</a></span>Hall, they’ll maybe learn all about you. And perhaps, +that <i>would</i> be bad,” said Jennie, slowly.</p> + +<p>“Then you see it too?” asked Nancy, sadly. “They’ll be very sure I am a +nobody then.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a shame how girls will talk,” admitted Jennie Bruce. “Especially +that kind of girls.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I had <i>you</i> for a friend, Jennie,” said Nancy, in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“Why! you have!” cried the other. “I’ve always wanted to know you +better. But the girls think you are offish.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mean to be.”</p> + +<p>“No, I see,” returned Jennie. “But I understand you now. I wish you were +in this room instead of Sally.”</p> + +<p>“And if you only were in Number 30, instead of Cora,” spoke Nancy, out +loud.</p> + +<p>And upon the very echo of these words, a clear voice demanded:</p> + +<p>“And will you tell me, Miss Nelson, how it is that <i>you</i> are not in +Number 30—your proper dormitory—at this hour of the night?”</p> + +<p>Both girls sat up in bed as though worked with the same spring. They +could not speak. Madame Schakael stood in the doorway.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_150" id="pg_150">150</a></span> +<a name="A_GREAT_DEAL_HAPPENS_4188" id="A_GREAT_DEAL_HAPPENS_4188"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>A GREAT DEAL HAPPENS</h3> +</div> + +<p>The Madame’s doll-like figure has been mentioned before in these +chronicles. But to Nancy Nelson’s excited imagination the principal of +Pinewood Hall at this juncture seemed to swell—expand—develop—and +actually fill the doorway of Number 40, West Side, with her unexpected +presence!</p> + +<p>Nancy couldn’t speak for the moment. Even the lively Jennie Bruce’s +gayety was stifled in her throat.</p> + +<p>“I hope you are not stricken dumb, Nancy,” suggested the Madame, in the +same low voice.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Madame! forgive me!” gasped the culprit at last, and slipped out of +bed.</p> + +<p>“Where are your robe and slippers?”</p> + +<p>“Right here, Madame,” answered the frightened freshman, getting into +them in a hurry.</p> + +<p>“Well! stand there. Tell me why you are in the wrong room?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it isn’t Jennie’s fault—’deed it isn’t, Madame!” gasped Nancy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_151" id="pg_151">151</a></span>“I am not going to eat you, child,” said the principal of the school, +with some exasperation. “Having broken a rule, please stand up properly +and answer my questions.</p> + +<p>“How came you here, Nancy Nelson?”</p> + +<p>“Jennie—Jennie found me crying in the hall.”</p> + +<p>“What for?”</p> + +<p>“I—I felt bad.”</p> + +<p>“You were ill?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, ma’am,” Nancy hastened to say. “I was not ill at all. Only I +was—was lonely—and—and sorry—and——”</p> + +<p>“Not altogether clear, Nancy,” said the Madame; but her voice was lower +and softer. “Tell me why you were crying in the hall?”</p> + +<p>But now Nancy had begun to get a grip upon herself. She realized the +position she was in. If she obeyed Madame Schakael’s order she must +“tell on” the girls then holding their orgie in Number 30.</p> + +<p>“Do you hear me, Nancy?” asked Madame Schakael, firmly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Madame,” whispered the girl.</p> + +<p>“Can’t you answer me?”</p> + +<p>“No—no, Madame.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>Nancy was silent for fully a minute, the Madame waiting without a sign +of irritation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_152" id="pg_152">152</a></span>“That—that, too, I cannot answer,” said the miserable girl, at last.</p> + +<p>“Do you realize what such a refusal means, Nancy?”</p> + +<p>“You—you will have to punish me.”</p> + +<p>“Seriously.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Madame; seriously.”</p> + +<p>“And your record to date has been quite the best of any girl of your +class.”</p> + +<p>Nancy locked her hands together and gazed at the principal. But she +could say nothing.</p> + +<p>“You say Jennie Bruce is not to blame?” asked Madame Schakael, after +another minute of silence.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, Madame!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me!” cried the other girl, “You just don’t understand, +Madame——”</p> + +<p>Nancy made a pleading gesture to stop her newly-made friend. Madame held +up her hand, too.</p> + +<p>“I believe what Nancy Nelson says, Miss Bruce,” she observed, gravely. +“You shall not be punished.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care for that!” cried the impulsive Jennie. “But Nancy ought +not to be punished, either.”</p> + +<p>“Will you let <i>me</i> be the judge of that, Jennie?” asked the Madame, +softly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_153" id="pg_153">153</a></span>Jennie was abashed.</p> + +<p>“Nancy is out of her room out of hours. That is a fault—a serious +fault. You both know that?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Madame,” said the stiff-lipped Nancy, while Jennie began to sob.</p> + +<p>“I notice that Jennie’s roommate is not here. When she returns, Nancy, +you may go back to your own room. And I shall deal out the same sort of +punishment to Sally that I do to you, Nancy.</p> + +<p>“And that is,” pursued Madame Schakael, slowly, “that you will be denied +recreation, save that which is a part of the school curriculum, until +the Christmas recess.”</p> + +<p>Nancy said nothing. But she fully understood what it meant. No outdoor +runs alone, no skating, nothing save the exercises prescribed by the +physical instructor.</p> + +<p>“You may wait for Sally’s return. And you are both forbidden to speak of +this visit,” the principal said, and withdrew from the room as softly as +she had entered it.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me!” gasped Nancy, “she will catch them all in Number 30.”</p> + +<p>“And serve ’em right,” said Jennie.</p> + +<p>They waited, expecting to see Jennie’s roommate coming back in a hurry. +But there was no <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_154" id="pg_154">154</a></span>disturbance. The clock at the foot of the main +staircases had long since struck eleven. Now it tolled midnight.</p> + +<p>Soon there were creaking of doors, faint rustlings in the corridors, +giggling half-suppressed, and then the door of Number 40 opened again +softly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, gee!” exclaimed Sally. “Is she <i>here</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, she is,” replied Jenny, tartly. “What have you got to say against +it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you needn’t be so short, Jennie Bruce,” said Sally.</p> + +<p>She slipped out of her wrapper and into her bed. Nancy got up, kissed +Jennie warmly, and left the room silently. When she got back to Number +30 Cora was alone. All traces of the spread were hidden.</p> + +<p>Cora said never a word; neither did Nancy. But she wondered much. Madame +Schakael, she believed, had not hunted out the mystery of <i>her</i> being +with Jennie Bruce. Would she and Sally be the only ones punished for +this affair?</p> + +<p>Morning came and with it the usual assembly in the hall for prayers +after breakfast. From the platform Madame Schakael read, without a word +of explanation, the names of every girl who had attended Cora’s +spread—save Cora herself—and ordered that they be deprived of +recreation, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_155" id="pg_155">155</a></span>as had Nancy, “for being out of their dormitories after +hours.” The blow fell like a thunderclap upon the culprits.</p> + +<p>When they filed out of the hall to go to first recitation not one of the +girls who had been at Number 30 the night before but scowled deadly +hatred at poor Nancy.</p> + +<p>It would have been useless for Nancy to point out that she, too, had +received the same punishment. Circumstances were against the girl who +had practically been turned out of her own room while the party was +having a glorious time eating salad, macaroons, ice cream, and various +other indigestible combinations of “sweeties.”</p> + +<p>Cora Rathmore had escaped. How? Her mates did not stop to investigate +<i>that</i> mystery.</p> + +<p>If Cora could have explained she did not set about it. Instead, in first +recitation, where she sat behind Nancy, she poked her in the back with a +needle-like forefinger and hissed:</p> + +<p>“You’re a nice one; aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>Nancy merely gave her a look, but made no reply.</p> + +<p>“Don’t play the innocent. We all know that you went to the Madame and so +got square with us.”</p> + +<p>“I—did—not!” declared Nancy, sternly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_156" id="pg_156">156</a></span>“Miss Nelson!” exclaimed Miss Maybrick, suddenly.</p> + +<p>Nancy whirled around, “eyes front.”</p> + +<p>“Demerit—talking in class,” said the teacher.</p> + +<p>That was the first time such a thing had happened to Nancy. It did seem +as though everything bad was tumbling on top of her at once. She would +not look around again when Cora poked her, but kept at her books—or +appeared to!</p> + +<p>What little joy she had had in school heretofore was all gone now. +Lessons dragged; she thought the instructors all looked at her +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>Just the recreation room in the basement between lessons, or a demure +walk with Miss Etching, the physical instructor, over the snowy lawns +and wood paths about Pinewood. Extra gym work was denied her, and when +the other girls ran with their skates to the river after release from +studies, she could only go to Number 30 and mope.</p> + +<p>Nancy could not see Bob Endress again. <i>That</i> was something beside a +mere provocation of spirit. The girl felt that it was serious.</p> + +<p>As Jennie had suggested, she wished to warn Bob to say nothing about +where he had met her before. Of course, Grace Montgomery could not see +the boy, either. But Cora was free to <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_157" id="pg_157">157</a></span>pump Bob, and Nancy was sure her +roommate would worm out of him the whole story of how he had first met +Nancy.</p> + +<p>“He’s been looking for you,” whispered Jennie to Nancy at supper, the +first night following the imposition of the punishment. “I saw him +skating with Corinne and some of the other big girls. I don’t know +whether he saw Cora, or not.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, Jennie!” cried Nancy. “I wish you would warn him.”</p> + +<p>“I?” exclaimed the other. “I never was introduced to him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>“But that wouldn’t make any difference,” declared the fun-loving girl, +with a smile. “I’m not afraid of boys; they don’t bite.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a real nice boy, I believe,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“So they all say.”</p> + +<p>“And he’d understand, I am sure,” continued Nancy. “If he was only +warned what harm his telling might do me——”</p> + +<p>“Leave it to me!” cried Jennie. “I’ll skate with him to-morrow—if he’s +on the ice.”</p> + +<p>Nancy’s life in the school was made far more miserable now by Cora +Rathmore and her friends. All these girls, who had enjoyed the spread +bought with Nancy’s money, but who had been punished <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_158" id="pg_158">158</a></span>by the principal, +were determined to look upon Nancy as guilty of “telling on them.”</p> + +<p>Nor did they give her any chance to answer the charge. Cora would not +even speak to her in their room. If any of the other girls came in, Cora +said:</p> + +<p>“Oh, come over to your room. We can’t talk here, where there is a +telltale around.”</p> + +<p>This was said <i>at</i> Nancy; but none of them actually addressed her. +Besides, Cora began to hint that she knew something against Nancy that +she was keeping in reserve.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! she holds her head up awful proud,” Cora observed in Nancy’s +hearing. “But you just wait!”</p> + +<p>“Wait for what, Cora?” asked one of the girls.</p> + +<p>“Wait till I get a letter. I’ll know all about Miss Telltale soon.”</p> + +<p>And after that Nancy’s worst fears were realized by the news that Jennie +Bruce brought her. Jennie had managed to see and have a private +interview with Bob Endress.</p> + +<p>“And of course, he’s managed to do it,” grumbled Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Done what? Oh! done what?” cried Nancy, clasping her hands.</p> + +<p>“Well, Cora wormed something out of him. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_159" id="pg_159">159</a></span>He told her how you were the +girl who saved him from drowning last summer.”</p> + +<p>“Then it’ll all come out!” groaned Nancy.</p> + +<p>“That’s according. Cora knows where you lived before you came to +Pinewood to school.”</p> + +<p>“And she’ll write to Malden. I believe she <i>has</i> done so.”</p> + +<p>“But perhaps whoever she knows there won’t know you.”</p> + +<p>“But they’ll learn about Higbee School, and then they can trace me to +it. I know if anybody wrote to Miss Prentice she’d tell all about me. +She’d think it her duty.”</p> + +<p>“Mean old thing!” declared Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jennie! it’s going to be awful hard,” said poor Nancy. “You’d +better not be too friendly with me. The girls are all bound to look down +on me.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be so foolish! Of course they won’t.”</p> + +<p>But Nancy shook her head. She had been all through the same trouble so +many times before. With every incoming class of new girls at Higbee +School it had been the same. She had been “the girl of mystery.”</p> + +<p>“If you could only make that old lawyer tell the truth about you, +Nance!” exclaimed Jennie.</p> + +<p>“But perhaps he <i>is</i> telling the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Not much, he isn’t.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_160" id="pg_160">160</a></span>“Why, you’re as bad as Scorch O’Brien,” declared Nancy, with half a +smile.</p> + +<p>“That boy’s got some brains, all right,” observed Jennie, quickly. “It +does not sound reasonable that, during all these years, Mr. Gordon would +not have probed into the matter and learned something about your real +antecedents.”</p> + +<p>Nancy shook her head, slowly. “It may all be true. Maybe it is just +kind-heartedness that has kept him acting as intermediary between the +persons who furnish money for my education, and myself.”</p> + +<p>“And why does he tip you so generously?”</p> + +<p>“Oh—er—Well, I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>“Is that out of his own pocket, do you think?” asked the shrewd Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Well——”</p> + +<p>“Does this ‘Old Gordon,’ as your friend Scorch calls him, really seem +like a man given to outbursts of charity, Nance?”</p> + +<p>“Why—why, I never saw him but once,” replied Nancy.</p> + +<p>“But did he impress you as being of a philanthropic nature?” urged her +friend.</p> + +<p>“No-oo.”</p> + +<p>“I thought not,” observed Jennie. “Just because Scorch reminded him of +your existence wasn’t likely to make him send you money. I bet <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_161" id="pg_161">161</a></span>he +handles plenty more belonging to you that you never see.”</p> + +<p>“But see to what an expensive school he has sent me!” cried Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Maybe he was obliged to do so. Perhaps he only does just what he is +told to do, after all. There may be somebody behind Mr. Gordon, who is +watching both him and you.”</p> + +<p>“My goodness! You make it all more mysterious than it was before,” +sighed Nancy. “Just the same, if these girls learn all about me they’ll +spread it around that I’m just a foundling, and that nobody knows +anything about me. It is going to be dreadfully hard.”</p> + +<p>“Now, you pluck up your spirit, Nance Nelson!” commanded Jennie Bruce. +“Don’t be so milk-and-watery. You’re just as good as they are.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. At least, my folks may not have been as good as <i>their</i> +folks.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’d never let ’em guess it,” cried Jennie. “You’re scared before +you are hurt, Nance; that’s what is the matter with you.”</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_162" id="pg_162">162</a></span> +<a name="IT_COMES_TO_A_HEAD_4554" id="IT_COMES_TO_A_HEAD_4554"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>IT COMES TO A HEAD</h3> +</div> + +<p>Jennie Bruce was just as full of good humor as she could be. She may +have lacked reverence for teachers, precedent, the dignity of the +seniors, and honored custom; but nobody with a normal mind could really +be angry with her.</p> + +<p>Her deportment marks were dreadfully low; but she was quick at her +studies and was really too kind-hearted to <i>mean</i> to bother the +teachers.</p> + +<p>She managed to get in and out of a dozen scrapes a day. Yet the +rollicking good-nature of the girl, and her frank honesty did much to +save her from serious punishment.</p> + +<p>Jennie went on her care-free way, assured in her own mind that certain +of the rules of Pinewood Hall were only made to be broken. If a thought +came to her in class, or a desire to communicate with another scholar, +she could no more resist the temptation than she could fly.</p> + +<p>“Miss Bruce! half an hour this afternoon on grammar rules for talking!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_163" id="pg_163">163</a></span>“Oh, Miss Maybrick! I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.”</p> + +<p>“Learn to think, then.”</p> + +<p>“Jennie, if you <i>must</i> make such faces, please do so out of the view of +your classmates, I beg.” This from gentle Miss Meader.</p> + +<p>“I—I was just trying how it felt to be strangled with a cord. It says +here the <i>Thuggee</i> did it in India as a religious practice.”</p> + +<p>“That’s enough, Jennie!” as a giggle arose from the roomful of girls. +“Your excuses are worse than your sins.”</p> + +<p>And her thirst for knowledge! Of course, it was a desire for information +that was by no possibility of any value to either herself or the class.</p> + +<p>“Is this sentence good English, Miss Halliday?” asked Jennie, after +scribbling industriously for some minutes, and then reading from her +paper: “‘A girl was criticised by her teacher for the use of the word +“that,” but it was proved that that “that” that that girl used was that +“that” that that girl should have used.’ Is that right?”</p> + +<p>“That is perfectly correct, Jennie,” said the English teacher, grimly, +when the class had come to order, “but <i>you</i> are altogether wrong. You +may show me that sentence written plainly forty times when you come to +the class to-morrow.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_164" id="pg_164">164</a></span>“Zowie!” murmured Jennie in Nancy’s ear as they were excused. “I bet +she thought that hurt.”</p> + +<p>But the ingenious Jennie had recourse to a typewriter in one of the +offices which the girls could use if they wished. She put in forty slips +of tissue paper, with carbon sheets between each two, and wrote the +troublesome sentence on all forty slips at once!</p> + +<p>“You know very well this was not what I meant when I gave you the task, +Jennie,” commented Miss Halliday, yet having hard work not to smile.</p> + +<p>“You particularly said to write it plainly,” returned the demure Jennie. +“And what could be plainer than typewriting?”</p> + +<p>These jokes, and their like, made her beloved by a certain number of the +girls, amused the others, and sometimes bothered her teachers a good +deal.</p> + +<p>But there was not a girl in all Pinewood Hall who would have been of +such help to Nancy Nelson at this juncture as Jennie Bruce.</p> + +<p>When Jennie was out of the building in recreation time, Nancy either +kept close in Number 30, or crept away to some empty office and conned +her lesson books industriously.</p> + +<p>When Jennie was at hand Nancy began to see that she need fear little +trouble from the Montgomery <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_165" id="pg_165">165</a></span>clique. They were all afraid of Jennie’s +sharp tongue. And after Cora had tried to be nasty to Nancy before a +crowd a couple of times, and Jennie had turned the laugh against her, +Nancy’s enemies learned better.</p> + +<p>But one noon Grace Montgomery received a letter which, after reading, +she passed around among her particular friends. It was eagerly read, +especially by Cora Rathmore.</p> + +<p>That young lady immediately walked over to Nancy, who was sitting alone +reading, and she shook the letter in the surprised girl’s face.</p> + +<p>“Now I’ve got you, Miss!” she fairly hissed.</p> + +<p>Nancy looked up, startled, but could not speak.</p> + +<p>“Now we know where you came from, and what and who you are, Nancy +Nelson!” pursued Cora. “A girl like you—a nobody—a foundling—Oh! I’ll +see if I have got to associate with such <i>scum</i>!”</p> + +<p>She wheeled sharply away, and had Nancy recovered her powers of speech +she would have had no time to reply to this tirade.</p> + +<p>But Nancy could not have spoken just then to save her life! The blow had +fallen at last. All she had feared since coming to Pinewood Hall was now +about to be realized.</p> + +<p>In some way Grace Montgomery had learned the particulars of her early +life at Higbee School, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_166" id="pg_166">166</a></span>though Cora might not have found it out, and +Grace had put the letter into the hands of Nancy’s roommate.</p> + +<p>What Cora would first do poor Nancy did not know. There would be some +terrible “blowup” the girl was sure. The story would spread all over the +school. All the girls must know that she was a mere nobody, apparently +dependent upon charity for her education and even for her food.</p> + +<p>Oh! if she could only escape from it all—run away from Pinewood—go +somewhere so far, or so hidden, that none of these proud girls coming +from rich families could ever find and taunt her with her own miserable +story.</p> + +<p>Yes, Nancy thought earnestly that afternoon of running away. Any +existence, it seemed to her then, would be better than suffering the +unkind looks and the doubtful whispers of her school companions.</p> + +<p>Nancy was not afraid of ordinary things. The possibility of hunger and +cold did not daunt her. She knew that, if she left the school secretly, +and ran away and found a place to work, she might often be in need. But +if she could only go where people would not ask questions!</p> + +<p>She was quite as old as Scorch O’Brien, she thought. And see how +independent that flame-haired <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_167" id="pg_167">167</a></span>youngster was! Nancy knew she could take +care of herself alone in the city as well as Scorch. She had enough +money left to get her to Cincinnati, and something over.</p> + +<p>How she got through her lessons after dinner she never knew; but she +did, somehow. Then she crept up to her dormitory and to her delight +found it empty. She gathered together a few of her simplest possessions +and crammed them into her handbag. She took only those things that would +not be at once missed. She touched nothing on her bureau.</p> + +<p>When she had locked the bag she opened the window and peered out. It was +already growing dark; but far away, on the frozen river, she could hear +the ring of skates and the silvery shouts of laughter from the girls.</p> + +<p>Nobody stirred in the pinewood, nor in the shrubbery closer to the Hall. +Nancy waited for a minute to see if she was observed, and then she +tossed the bag into the middle of a clump of bushes not far from her +window.</p> + +<p>She believed nobody had seen her. She closed the sash and picked up her +cap and coat. She rolled these into as small and compact a bundle as +possible and then left the room quietly.</p> + +<p>Corinne Pevay was coming through the corridor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_168" id="pg_168">168</a></span>“Hullo, Nancy Nelson!” she said, cheerfully, putting her hand upon the +younger girl’s shoulder. “What did you want to be such a perfect little +brick for?”</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know what you mean?” quoth Nancy, shrinking under the +senior’s touch.</p> + +<p>“Why, if you’d told Madame Schakael all about it the other night when +she caught you in Number 40, do you suppose she would have punished you +so harshly?”</p> + +<p>“I—I couldn’t tell on them,” murmured Nancy, trying to hide her bundle.</p> + +<p>“No. But what good did it do to try and save girls like Montgomery? They +blame you, just the same.”</p> + +<p>Nancy nodded, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>“But <i>I</i> know that you didn’t tell on them; and so does Jennie Bruce. +Madame Schakael learned the names of the culprits by going from door to +door and finding out who were absent from their rooms. She did not have +to go to Number 30 at all. And you got no thanks for trying to shield +them.”</p> + +<p>Nancy continued silent.</p> + +<p>“And one of them told <i>me</i>,” said Corinne, pointedly, “that <i>you</i> paid +for all those goodies they gorged themselves on; yet they froze you out +of the party. Is that right?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_169" id="pg_169">169</a></span>“Oh, I—I’d rather not say, Miss Pevay,” stammered Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Humph! Well, you’re a funny kid,” said the senior, leaving her. “You’ll +never get along in this girls’ menagerie if you let ’em walk all over +you.”</p> + +<p>Nancy had been afraid that Corinne would go to the lower floor with her. +But when the bigger girl left her, she slipped down the stairs like a +streak and ran for the rear door of the West Side.</p> + +<p>She saw nobody. The lower corridors seemed empty. She reached the +unlocked door and had her hand upon the knob. Indeed, she turned the +knob and pulled the door toward her.</p> + +<p>The cold evening air blew in upon her face. It was the Breath of the +Wide World—that world that lay before her if she left the shelter of +Pinewood Hall and the bitterness of her life here.</p> + +<p>And then, for the first time, a thought struck her. She had been +forbidden to leave the building, save at stated times with the physical +instructor, until the Christmas holidays, which were three weeks away.</p> + +<p>Madame Schakael had bound her, on her honor, to remain a prisoner in the +Hall until the ban of displeasure should be lifted. She had tacitly +promised to obey, and therefore the Madame had set no spy upon Nancy’s +footsteps. There was <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_170" id="pg_170">170</a></span>no watching of the girls suffering under +punishment. That was not the system of Pinewood Hall and its mistress.</p> + +<p>How could Nancy break her word to Madame Schakael? Never had the Madame +spoken otherwise than kindly to her. Even when she meted out punishment +to her, Nancy knew that the punishment was just. The Madame could have +done no less.</p> + +<p>The principal had not even urged Nancy to report her schoolmates on the +night of the party at Number 30, West Side. She had accepted her +statement, as far as it went, as perfectly honest, too. She had not +punished Jennie Bruce.</p> + +<p>“Why, I <i>can’t</i> run away and make Madame Schakael trouble!” gasped +Nancy, closing the door again softly and crouching there in the dark +hallway. “Mr. Gordon might make her trouble. Besides—I’ve promised.”</p> + +<p>The girl was much shaken by her fear of what cruelty Cora Rathmore and +Grace Montgomery would mete out to her. Yet she could not play what +seemed to her mind a “mean trick” upon the doll-like principal who had +been so kind to her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me! I can’t go—I can’t go!” moaned Nancy Nelson. “It wouldn’t +be right. Madame Schakael said I wasn’t to go out——”</p> + +<p>And then she remembered the bag she had <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_171" id="pg_171">171</a></span>tossed out of the window. She +must have that bag back, if she wasn’t going away. If it remained there +over night perhaps Mr. Pease, or Samuel, would find it.</p> + +<p>And then the story would all come out, and her position in the school +would be worse!</p> + +<p>But Nancy knew that she had no right to leave the building at this +particular time. That was the plain understanding, that recreation hours +should be spent within the Hall, unless Miss Etching invited her to join +a walking party.</p> + +<p>The physical instructor was now down on the ice with the girls. Nancy +might have asked one of the other teachers for permission to step out +for just a minute; but that would entail much explanation.</p> + +<p>The brush clump into which she had thrown her bag was around the farther +corner of the wing. And just then she heard laughing and talking as the +first group from the river approached the Hall.</p> + +<p>Ah! there was Jennie. Nancy identified her jolly laugh and chatter +immediately. She could trust Jennie. Jennie would slip around the house +and bring in the fatal bag secretly, and keep still about it.</p> + +<p>So Nancy kept back in the dark hall and let the troop of laughing girls +pass her without saying a <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_172" id="pg_172">172</a></span>word. Jennie came last and Nancy seized her +arm.</p> + +<p>“Goodness to gracious and eight hands around!” gasped Jennie. “How you +startled me. Is it you, Nancy?”</p> + +<p>“Hush! Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what’s the matter? Whose old cat is dead now?” demanded Jennie, +in an equally low voice.</p> + +<p>“I—I threw my bag out of the window, Jennie. Will you get it?” +whispered the excited girl.</p> + +<p>“Your bag?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes!”</p> + +<p>“What under the sun did you do it for?”</p> + +<p>“I—I can’t tell you here,” whispered Nancy.</p> + +<p>“What have you got <i>there</i>?” demanded Jennie, suddenly, pulling at the +bundle under the other girl’s arm.</p> + +<p>“My—my coat.”</p> + +<p>“And your hat?”</p> + +<p>“Ye—yes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you little chump! You are starting to run away!”</p> + +<p>“No, I’m not.”</p> + +<p>“But you thought of it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jennie! I don’t see how I <i>can</i> stay here. Cora and Grace know +everything.”</p> + +<p>“I know it—nasty cats! But I’d face ’em. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_173" id="pg_173">173</a></span>There’s nothing to be ashamed +of,” declared Jennie. But she said it a little weakly. She knew that +many of the girls would be just foolish enough to follow the lead of the +Montgomery girl and Cora Rathmore.</p> + +<p>“I—I’ve <i>got</i> to face ’em, I suppose,” murmured Nancy. “I just thought +that I couldn’t run away.”</p> + +<p>“Huh! why not?” asked her friend, curiously.</p> + +<p>“Because Madame Schakael put me on my honor not to leave the Hall in +recreation hours without permission.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! goodness!” gasped Jennie. Then she burst out laughing, rocking +herself to and fro, doubled up in the darkness of the hallway.</p> + +<p>“What a delightful kid you are, Nance!” she cried, at last. “And you +threw your handbag, all packed, out of the window?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll go get it. But you certainly <i>will</i> be the death of me!” +cried Jennie, and opened the door again.</p> + +<p>“Oh! I’ll thank you so much,” whispered Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Go on upstairs and put that coat and hat away,” ordered Jennie, with +sudden gruffness. “You’re no more fit to roam this wild desert of +boarding-school life alone than a baby in long <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_174" id="pg_174">174</a></span>clothes! Run, now!” and +Jennie darted out of the door.</p> + +<p>But it was easier to say than to do! When Nancy stole back into the main +hall there were a dozen girls, at least, gathered there waiting for the +supper gong. And among them were some of those who had, all the time, +treated Nancy with the least consideration.</p> + +<p>Nancy dropped her gaze, so as not to see their unpleasant looks, and +stole toward the stairway with her bundle. But suddenly Cora’s sharp +voice halted her. She had not seen Cora at first.</p> + +<p>“Yes! there she goes up to our room. <i>That’s</i> the girl <i>I</i> have to room +with. But I’m going to tell Madame Schakael right now that I sha’n’t do +so any longer.”</p> + +<p>Nancy’s head came up and she flushed and paled. The lash of Cora’s words +roused her temper as it had been roused once before. Yet all she said in +reply to the cruel speech was:</p> + +<p>“Why can’t you let me alone, Cora Rathmore?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll let you alone!” repeated Cora, with a shrill laugh. “I guess I +will. And every other <i>nice</i> girl will let you alone, Miss Nelson. Don’t +be afraid that you’ll be worried by friends here. We all know what you +are now.”</p> + +<p>Nancy had reached the foot of the stairs and <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_175" id="pg_175">175</a></span>was starting up. She +whirled suddenly to face her tormentor. The coat and cap fell from her +grasp. She clenched her hands tightly and cried:</p> + +<p>“Then what <i>am</i> I, Cora? What have I done that makes me so bad in your +eyes? What have you got against me?”</p> + +<p>“You’re a nobody. You came from a charity school. The woman who is +principal doesn’t know where you came from. Your parents may be in jail +for all anybody knows,” returned Cora.</p> + +<p>“You haven’t any people, and you stayed in that Higbee School at Maiden +all the year round—vacations and all. The girls didn’t like you there +any more than they do here.</p> + +<p>“Ha! Miss Nobody from No-place-at-all! that’s what you are!” sneered +Nancy’s roommate. “How do you expect the nice girls here at Pinewood +Hall will want to associate with you?</p> + +<p>“And let me tell you, Miss, that <i>I</i> refuse to room with you another +day. I shall tell Madame Schakael so right now!” concluded Cora, her +face very red and her black eyes flashing angrily.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_176" id="pg_176">176</a></span> +<a name="A_RIFT_IN_THE_CLOUDS_4937" id="A_RIFT_IN_THE_CLOUDS_4937"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>A RIFT IN THE CLOUDS</h3> +</div> + +<p>None of the other girls had taken part in this discussion; but they all +chanced to be members of the party that had partaken of the famous +spread in Number 30 when Nancy’s money paid for the goodies out of the +enjoyment of which she had been crowded.</p> + +<p>They were all, save Cora, paying the price, like Nancy, of being found +out of their rooms after curfew by the principal of Pinewood Hall. All +had suffered alike. Cora had been the only one to escape.</p> + +<p>As it chanced, Cora had <i>not</i> been out of her room. The girls were not +punished for eating ice cream and macaroons in secret, and none of them +had been questioned about the incident save Nancy herself.</p> + +<p>They had all, however, urged by Cora and Grace Montgomery, been sure +that Nancy had “got even” by reporting them to the teachers. Maybe, if +Cora had not so urged this—had not been so confident of Nancy’s crime, +in fact—the <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_177" id="pg_177">177</a></span>other girls might have stopped to think that <i>she</i> was +being punished equally with themselves, and that only Cora had escaped.</p> + +<p>Just the same, some of them might on this evening have taken Nancy’s +part had not Cora Rathmore made so much of the report upon Nancy’s +character that Grace Montgomery had received from a friend in Malden.</p> + +<p>Nobody had seen the letter (which came under cover for Grace from her +sister at home, and was therefore not examined by Madame Schakael) save +Grace herself and Cora. The latter had flown into a passion immediately, +and had declared that she would no longer remain in the same room with a +“charity foundling.”</p> + +<p>Without stopping to think, these other girls were carried away by Cora’s +eloquence. When Nancy turned to face them from the lower stair of the +flight leading up to the West Side dormitories, she was like a sheep +cornered by a pack of dogs.</p> + +<p>The shrill voice of the angry Cora carried much farther than she had +intended, however. Suddenly, at the top of the flight, appeared Corinne +Pevay, captain of the West Side.</p> + +<p>“What is the trouble, <i>mes enfants</i>?” she demanded. “Why all the +outburst of variegated sounds, Cora? Is it a convention of the Freshman +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_178" id="pg_178">178</a></span>Calliope Society; or merely a discussion of the question: Votes for +Women?”</p> + +<p>Cora had become silent instantly. Nancy was winking back her tears, and +would not turn around. The other girls did not feel called upon to +speak.</p> + +<p>“‘Silence was her answer; Low she bowed her head!’” chanted Corinne, in +a sing-song tone. “It sounded like a washerwomen’s convention, and now +it has suddenly changed to a Quaker meeting. Come! what’s the trouble?” +and she spoke more sharply as she began to descend the stairs.</p> + +<p>“None of your business, Miss!” snapped the black-eyed girl, made even +angrier at this interruption.</p> + +<p>“Wrong Cora—wrong. It <i>is</i> my business. Somebody will call me to +account for it if you West Side infants raise ructions in the main hall. +You know that. So, out with the difficulty.”</p> + +<p>Cora still remained scornfully silent.</p> + +<p>“It is about Nancy, here, again, I suppose,” said Corinne, finally +reaching Nancy’s side, and resting one hand lightly on the latter’s +shoulders. “You girls seem unable to annoy anybody else but Nancy +Nelson. And if I were she”—she was coolly looking around the group and +soon identified them as the party that had been punished with Nancy over +Number 30’s spread,—“I never would stand it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_179" id="pg_179">179</a></span>“She is too easy.... That is what is the matter with her. When Madame +Schakael found her in Jennie’s room that night she ought to have told +just how she had been crowded out of her own room—and after paying for +all the goodies you girls stuffed yourselves with, too!</p> + +<p>“Why, I’d be ashamed! She took her punishment and never said a word. +Jennie can prove <i>that</i>. And all you little fools have laid your +punishment to <i>her</i>. And after eating her spread——”</p> + +<p>“That isn’t so!” snapped Cora, in a rage.</p> + +<p>“What isn’t so?”</p> + +<p>“She knows she’s going to be paid back for what she spent on the +supper,” declared Cora.</p> + +<p>“Good! I hope she will be paid back. But you can’t pay her back for the +mean way you have treated her,” declared the senior, with some warmth.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to! I don’t want to!” almost screamed Cora. “Do you think +I am going to have anything to do with a girl who doesn’t even know who +she <i>is</i>?”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Cora?” asked Corinne, quickly.</p> + +<p>“That girl,” cried Cora, pointing a quivering finger at the silent +Nancy, “was just found by <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_180" id="pg_180">180</a></span>somebody when she was a baby and was sent to +a charity school—the Higbee Endowment School in Maiden, it’s called.</p> + +<p>“She’s a foundling. Her parents deserted her—or they were sent to +jail—and other people sent this girl to school. She knows it’s so! She +daren’t say it isn’t!” continued the enraged Cora.</p> + +<p>“She’s just a little Miss Nobody. If such girls as she, without family +or friends, are going to come to Pinewood Hall, I am sure <i>my</i> mother +won’t want me to stay here. And one thing I <i>am</i> very sure of,” pursued +Cora. “I will <i>not</i> remain in Number 30 with this—this nameless girl +that no one knows anything about.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so, Miss Rathmore,” observed a quiet voice behind the excited +Cora. “What you say is emphatic, at least; and it really seems to be in +earnest. Therefore, it shall have my respectful consideration.”</p> + +<p>A horrified silence fell upon the group of girls at the foot of the +stairs.</p> + +<p>“Miss Pevay,” said the Madame, calmly, “bring Nancy Nelson and Cora +Rathmore to my office at once. What is that on the floor?”</p> + +<p>The little lady pointed to Nancy’s coat and cap. Nancy, with dry lips, +told her.</p> + +<p>“Have you been out without permission at this hour, Nancy?” asked the +Madame.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_181" id="pg_181">181</a></span>“No, Madame.”</p> + +<p>“Bring the coat and cap. At once!” commanded the Madame, and led the way +into her own suite of offices.</p> + +<p>Like three prisoners bound for the stake, the three girls followed. Even +Corinne felt that she had done wrong in allowing this squabble to +continue in the public hall.</p> + +<p>The other girls did not even dare whisper at first after the Madame and +the three girls were behind the closed door of the Madame’s anteroom. It +was seldom that the principal of Pinewood Hall took the punishment, or +interrogation, of offenders into her own hands. When she did it was a +solemn moment for all concerned.</p> + +<p>And the girls gathered at the bottom of the West Side stairway felt this +solemnity. They whispered together fearfully until suddenly Jennie Bruce +burst in from outdoors.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, girls! what’s gone wrong?” she demanded, swinging a small bag in +her hand.</p> + +<p>“You may well say ‘What’s gone wrong?’” declared Judy Craig, Belle +Macdonald’s chum. “The Madame caught poor Cora in an awful stew——”</p> + +<p>“Huh!” grunted Jennie. “Only Cora? Well! she can stand it, I guess.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know but she’s right,” wheezed <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_182" id="pg_182">182</a></span>Belle, who was also of +the party. “They ought not to let such girls into a school like Pinewood +Hall.”</p> + +<p>“Hul-<i>lo!</i>,” exclaimed Jennie, suddenly interested. “Who’s been treading +on <i>your</i> tootsies, Belle?”</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s that Nelson girl,” snapped Judy.</p> + +<p>“And what’s Nancy been doing?”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s what she <i>is</i>,” exclaimed another, eagerly. “You are pretty +thick with her, Jen. Do you know who she is?”</p> + +<p>Jennie nodded.</p> + +<p>“You don’t!”</p> + +<p>“I know just as much about her as she knows about herself,” declared +Jennie, with gravity.</p> + +<p>“And that’s just nothing,” cried Judy, with a little laugh. “That’s what +Cora says.”</p> + +<p>“And who told Cora?” asked Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Grace. And Grace knows!”</p> + +<p>“And who told Chicken-Little-Ducky-Lucky-Goosy-Poosy-Montgomery that the +sky had fallen?” demanded the sarcastic Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Did you know that Nancy Nelson came here from a charity school, and +that she has no folks?” asked Belle Macdonald, with considerable +bitterness.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Jennie, nodding.</p> + +<p>“Well! what do you suppose your mother <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_183" id="pg_183">183</a></span>would say if she knew you were +familiar with such a girl?”</p> + +<p>Jennie suddenly became grave. “She’d say,” declared the fun-loving girl, +her voice shaking a little, “she’d say: ‘That’s a good girl, Jennie. +She’s an orphan—be kind to her.’”</p> + +<p>“Oh, rats!” cried Judy. “She doesn’t even know she’s an orphan. Cora +says she believes Nancy’s parents are in jail.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe Cora has a wider acquaintance among jails than the rest of us,” +said Jennie airily, preparing to go upstairs.</p> + +<p>“And what was Nancy doing with her hat and coat at this hour?” put in +another girl, craftily. “The Madame noticed that right away.”</p> + +<p>“The Madame!” gasped Jennie, stopping instantly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, they’ve all gone into the office,” said Belle, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Who—all?”</p> + +<p>“Corinne and Cora and Nancy.”</p> + +<p>“They’ve caught Nancy because she was going to run away?” cried Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Run away?” repeated the other girls in chorus.</p> + +<p>The angry Jennie shook the bag in their faces.</p> + +<p>“Do you know what <i>this</i> is?” she demanded. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_184" id="pg_184">184</a></span>“Do you know what you girls +by your meanness almost drove Nancy Nelson to?</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you! She knows you all dislike her—hate her, in fact. She is +so unhappy here that she was going to run away from Pinewood Hall and +get work somewhere—that is what she was going to do.</p> + +<p>“She packed this bag and tossed it out of the window, and then she ran +down to the door intending to slip away. But she remembered that she had +been forbidden to leave the building at this time of day, and that +Madame Schakael had trusted her.</p> + +<p>“So Nance wouldn’t break her word, and I found her crying in the back +hall there, and told her I would bring back her bag. That’s the truth! +You girls have driven her to all that.</p> + +<p>“And now,” continued the wrathful Jennie, “I’m going in there to tell +Madame Schakael all about it. You girls don’t want to associate with +Nancy because she is an orphan and has no home? Well, <i>I</i> don’t want to +associate with <i>you</i> because you are all too mean to bother with! There +now!”</p> + +<p>And the excited Jennie came down the steps, strode across the hall and +entered the anteroom of the principal’s office, closing the door with a +bang.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_185" id="pg_185">185</a></span> +<a name="BETTER_TIMES_5191" id="BETTER_TIMES_5191"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>BETTER TIMES</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was seldom that Madame Schakael seemed so stern as on this occasion. +She perched herself upon her cushioned chair behind the desk table in +her inner office, while the three girls—the senior and the two +freshmen—lined up before her.</p> + +<p>“Now, Corinne, tell me all about it,” was her command to the older girl.</p> + +<p>“I am not sure that I <i>can</i> tell you all, Madame,” said Corinne, slowly. +“For I did not hear it all.”</p> + +<p>But the black-eyed Cora was getting back her courage now, and she +suddenly burst out:</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> can tell you, Madame!”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps—as it was your voice which I first heard—you had better tell +me your side of it, Miss Rathmore,” agreed the principal.</p> + +<p>“There’s only one side to it, Madame!” exclaimed Cora. “I was just +telling those girls—and Miss Pevay, who interfered——”</p> + +<p>“Corinne is the captain of the West Side. You belong on the West Side. +By no possibility could <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_186" id="pg_186">186</a></span>your captain have interfered if you chose the +public hall for any discussion,” said the Madame, with sudden sharpness. +“I want all you freshmen to understand that: The school captains must be +respected and obeyed.”</p> + +<p>“Well—I—I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” murmured Cora, suddenly +abashed.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not. But, Miss Rathmore, I fancy you will have to watch +yourself closely to correct a tendency in that direction,” observed the +Madame, drily. “Now, you may continue your statement.”</p> + +<p>Cora was quite put out for the moment. She had taken her first plunge +into the matter, had been brought up short, and now scarcely knew how to +carry on the attack on Nancy which had seemed so easy the minute before.</p> + +<p>“Well—well—I—I——”</p> + +<p>“Why do you stammer so, Miss Rathmore?” asked the principal. “Is it a +fact that that which seemed so desirable to say just now appears to you +in another light when you have taken time to think it over?”</p> + +<p>Stung by this suggestion Cora threw all caution to the winds. Her black +eyes flashed once more. She even stamped her foot as she pointed her +finger at Nancy.</p> + +<p>“I tell you what it is, Madame Schakael!” she <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_187" id="pg_187">187</a></span>cried. “I won’t stay in +the same dormitory with that girl another day. If you make me I’ll write +home to my mother.”</p> + +<p>“And your reasons?” asked Madame Schakael, quite calmly.</p> + +<p>“She is a perfect nobody!” gasped Cora. “She came here from a charity +school. She’s never lived anywhere else but at that school. She doesn’t +know a living thing about herself—who she is, what her folks were, why +they abandoned her——”</p> + +<p>Possibly Madame Schakael said something. But, if so, neither of the +three heard what it was. Yet Cora suddenly stopped in her +tirade—stricken dumb by the expression on the principal’s countenance.</p> + +<p>The little lady’s face was ablaze with emotion. She raised a warning +hand and it seemed as though, for a moment, she could not herself speak.</p> + +<p>“Girl! Who has dared tell you such perfectly ridiculous things? What is +the meaning of this wrangle in Pinewood Hall? I am amazed—perfectly +amazed—that a girl under my charge should express herself so cruelly +and rudely, as well as in so nonsensical a manner.</p> + +<p>“To put you right, first of all, Miss Rathmore, Miss Nelson’s position +in life is entirely different from what you seem to suspect. She is an +orphan. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_188" id="pg_188">188</a></span>I understand; but Mr. Henry Gordon has a careful oversight of +her welfare, and he pays for her education out of funds in his hands for +that purpose, and I am instructed to let her want for nothing. She is +not at all the friendless object of charity that you have evidently been +led to believe.</p> + +<p>“The Higbee Endowment School in which Miss Nelson has been educated is +by no means a charitable institution. It is a much better school than +the one in which you were taught previous to coming to Pinewood, Miss +Rathmore; I can accept pupils from Higbee into my freshman classes +without any special preparation.</p> + +<p>“I had no idea that girls under my charge would be so cruel as you seem +to be toward Nancy Nelson. Corinne! what does it mean?”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid I have let it go too far, Madame,” responded the senior, +gravely. “But you know, these freshmen have got to learn to fight their +own battles. <i>I</i> had to when I came.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; that is all right,” said the principal, waving her hand. “But +remember, Corinne, I mentioned to you when Nancy Nelson came that she +was one of the sensitive kind.”</p> + +<p>“And for that very reason the sensitive girls are hard to shake into +their places,” declared the captain of the West Side. “And then, she +roomed <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_189" id="pg_189">189</a></span>with Cora, here, and I thought she was one of that crowd.”</p> + +<p>“I guess my crowd is just as good as yours!” ejaculated Cora, plucking +up the remnants of her courage.</p> + +<p>“In my opinion, Madame Schakael,” continued Corinne, ignoring Cora, “I’d +give this Rathmore girl another roommate. It would be a kindness to +Nancy.”</p> + +<p>At the moment Jennie Bruce entered with more abruptness than good +manners. But Jennie was excited.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Madame Schakael! don’t punish her any more!” she cried, running to +Nancy and throwing her arms about her.</p> + +<p>Necessarily she dropped the bag. The Madame pointed to it.</p> + +<p>“What is this, Miss Bruce?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>“Let me tell you!” cried Jennie. “That’s what I came in for, Madame. +These horrid girls—Rathmore and her tribe—have just hounded Nancy so +that she wanted to run away.”</p> + +<p>“Run away?” gasped the principal. “From Pinewood?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Madame! But then she remembered she was on honor to stay indoors; +so even after throwing her bag out of the window, she gave up the +intention. And let me tell you,” added Jennie, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_190" id="pg_190">190</a></span>storming with anger, “if +this stuck-up, silly Cora Rathmore doesn’t want to room with Nancy, I +do!”</p> + +<p>The excited girl turned to the sobbing Nancy and took her in her arms +again.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you mind what the others say to you, Nance!” she cried. “I’ll +stick to you, you bet! And maybe some time we can solve the mystery,” +she added, in a whisper, “and find out who you are. <i>Then</i> we’ll make +’em all sorry they treated you so,” for it seemed to be a foregone +conclusion with Jennie that Nancy would prove to be a very great person +indeed if her identity were once discovered.</p> + +<p>“Dear, dear me!” exclaimed Madame Schakael, softly. But she really +smiled upon the excited Jennie. “I shall have to write to your mother, +Miss Bruce, after all, that you seem hopeless. You never <i>will</i> be able +to restrain those over-abundant spirits of yours.</p> + +<p>“But, my dear, I shall never have to tell that you are unkind. You have +solved this little problem, I believe. It would be undeserved punishment +to keep Miss Nelson in the room with Miss Rathmore any longer. In fact, +I believe that the punishment meted out to Miss Nelson already, and by +myself, has been too heavy.</p> + +<p>“Two things shall be changed; Nancy Nelson <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_191" id="pg_191">191</a></span>is released from the order +to remain indoors in recreation hours. Furthermore, she shall have a new +roommate.”</p> + +<p>She turned suddenly to the sullen Cora.</p> + +<p>“Miss Rathmore! You have revealed yourself to us all in a light which, +to say the least, is not a happy one. I will remove you from Number 30, +West Side. Indeed, it would be an imposition upon Miss Nelson to keep +you there. How do you suppose your present chum in Number 40 would +welcome Miss Rathmore, Jennie?” she added.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Jennie, her eyes twinkling. “Sally is one of +Cora’s crowd; but I haven’t anything against Sally, so I wouldn’t wish +Cora on her.”</p> + +<p>“That will do! that will do, Jennie! I did not ask you to be quite so +frank,” said the Madame, quickly. “What do you say, Corinne?”</p> + +<p>“It’s a good idea, Madame,” returned the captain, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then; because Miss Nelson deserves a more pleasant and +agreeable roommate, you may change places with Jennie Bruce, Miss +Rathmore.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care how you put it, Madame!” exclaimed Cora, with a toss of +her head. “I am glad to get out of Number 30. And, however <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_192" id="pg_192">192</a></span>you may put +it, Nancy Nelson <i>is</i> a nobody——”</p> + +<p>“You will lose <i>your</i> recreation hours until the Christmas holiday, Miss +Rathmore,” declared the Madame, rapping on her desk with a pencil. “And +don’t let me hear any more of this back-biting and unkindness in the +freshman class. Understand? You are all four excused.”</p> + +<p>They obeyed the little woman who—by turns—could be so stern and yet so +kind. Cora Rathmore flashed out in the lead and, crying with shame and +anger, ran upstairs without speaking to her chums at the foot of the +flight.</p> + +<p>Corinne came out of the anteroom with an arm around the waist of each of +the smaller girls. Quite a number of the West Side girls were either +coming down the stairs, or had already gathered to wait for the doors to +open into the dining room.</p> + +<p>“I want you girlies to know,” said the captain, cheerfully, “that we’ve +got two perfect little bricks in this class of greenies at Pinewood +Hall. And one of ’em’s named Jennie Bruce and the other’s named Nancy +Nelson.</p> + +<p>“I prophesy, too,” pursued the beauty of the school, “that Jennie and +Nancy are going to be the most notorious female Damon-and-Pythias +combination we have ever had at Pinewood.</p> + +<p>“Now, run along, you two children,” she added, giving Jennie and Nancy a +little shove <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_193" id="pg_193">193</a></span>each, “and get your eyes cooled off and wash your dirty +little hands for supper. Hurry up!”</p> + +<p>And did Nancy and Jennie care what the girls said to them now? Not a bit +of it!</p> + +<p>They went up the stairs and through the long corridor with their arms +around each other. And Jennie insisted upon taking Nancy to her room to +fix up for supper.</p> + +<p>“We’ll only run across Cora in Number 30—and I don’t want to have to +slap her face!” declared the still wrathful Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll help you pack up your things to bring to Number 30,” said +Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, not before supper, Nance!” cried Jennie, in horror. “I could go out +and bite a piece off the stone step, and swallow it right down, I’m so +hungry.”</p> + +<p>For the first time since she had come to Pinewood Hall, Nancy Nelson +went down to supper with her arm around another girl’s waist, and +another girl’s arm around hers.</p> + +<p>Jennie Bruce boldly sat beside her, too, although she belonged at +another table. And they whispered together, and giggled, and were even +reproved by one of the teachers—which was likewise a new experience for +Nancy, and perhaps did her no particular harm.</p> + +<p>“Ah-ha, Miss Mousie!” said Corinne, pausing <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_194" id="pg_194">194</a></span>by the new chums as she +made her tour of inspection, and pinching Nancy’s ear; “I see now I +shall have both you and Bruce to watch. But don’t you two go too far.”</p> + +<p>Really, a brand new existence had opened for Nancy. Jennie’s ready +championship of her did much to influence the opinion of the other +girls; and the story Grace Montgomery and Cora Rathmore spread regarding +Nancy fell rather flat.</p> + +<p>The Montgomery clique, after all, embraced only a very few of the +freshman class and some half dozen or more sophs. The latter had no +influence at all in Nancy’s class for, naturally, it was “war to the +knife” between the freshies and the class immediately above them in the +school.</p> + +<p>Corinne, too, after the grand explosion in which the Madame herself had +taken part, saw to it more particularly that the Montgomery crowd did +not “pick on” Nancy. If Jennie was about, however, that was sufficient. +Jennie Bruce would fight for her friend at the least provocation.</p> + +<p>Yet, after all, Nancy was not entirely easy in her mind. That the story +of her being a “mere nobody” had failed to make her ostracised by the +better class of Pinewood Hall girls, was a delightful fact.</p> + +<p>Yet the story was true. Nancy <i>was</i> nobody; as the Montgomery and Cora +said, her parents <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_195" id="pg_195">195</a></span><i>might</i> be people of no morals nor breeding. There +<i>might</i> be some great shame connected with herself and her family.</p> + +<p>The mystery of it all made Nancy very unhappy at times; but not so +unhappy as before. Now she had a close friend with whom she could +discuss the secret; and Jennie Bruce was just as deeply interested in +Nancy’s affairs as was Nancy herself.</p> + +<p>“Some day it will come all right, Nance,” the former assured her +roommate. “Maybe you and I will find out the truth. Perhaps that O’Brien +boy will help. I have great faith in Scorch, and I want to meet him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! do you suppose you and I could go to Cincinnati together!” gasped +Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Goody! It would be great!”</p> + +<p>“And then you could see Scorch.”</p> + +<p>“And I want to see that Mr. Gordon. I bet that lawyer knows more about +you than he is willing to tell.”</p> + +<p>“But perhaps he is doing his best for me, after all,” concluded Nancy, +with a sigh.</p> + +<p>Number 30, West Side, began to get a new reputation after Jennie came to +it. In the first place, Jennie was one of those girls who bring from +home to boarding school countless mementoes of their home life and of +their family and friends.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_196" id="pg_196">196</a></span>Jennie’s photographs and funny pictures, and pennants, and all the +other “litter” that a schoolgirl loves spilled over from her own bureau +to Nancy’s, and not only was Jennie’s side of the den decorated, but +there was plenty to decorate Nancy’s side.</p> + +<p>No longer was Nancy’s dressing-case the most plainly furnished in the +school. There were bows of ribbon, and bright calendar pictures, and +photo-frames, and numberless other little keepsakes tacked to the wall +on Nancy’s side.</p> + +<p>Jessie Pease put her head into Number 30 a day or two after Jennie’s +arrival, and exclaimed with delight:</p> + +<p>“Ah-ha! now the dear bairn’s got a homey looking room, thanks be! It’s +made my heart ache to see how barren the walls were. You’re a good girl, +Janie Bruce, if you <i>do</i> make me a world of trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Trouble! Trouble!” shouted Jennie. “How dare you say such a thing?” and +then she danced around the good soul, clapping her hands and singing:</p> + +<p class='ml2 mtr5 mbr5'>“Pease Porridge hot—pease porridge cold—<br /> +Pease porridge in the pot, nine days old!<br /> +Some like it hot—some like it cold—<br /> +But Jessie Pease of Pinewood never will be old!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_197" id="pg_197">197</a></span>“Bless ye, Janie,” said the good Scotchwoman, “I hope I’ll never be any +older than the youngest bairn who comes here to school.”</p> + +<p>“Sure! you’re a regular kid!” declared Jennie, hugging her.</p> + +<p>“My usefulness here will be all forbye when I can’t be a lassie wi’ +other lassies,” declared the lodgekeeper’s wife, kissing both Jennie and +Nancy and then going her way.</p> + +<p>The pleasure of having Jennie Bruce in Number 30 instead of Cora +Rathmore was no small thing to Nancy. In Jennie’s society she began to +expand. She became, indeed, quite a different creature from the quiet, +almost speechless girl who had heretofore crept about Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p>Girls of her own class, who had scarcely noticed Nancy before, suddenly +found that she was a bright and cheerful body when once she was included +in a group of her mates.</p> + +<p>She had made a splendid mark in classes, and stood equally high in such +athletics as Miss Etching encouraged. And on the ice she had shown +herself to be the equal of many of the older girls.</p> + +<p>Now, with the ban lifted from her recreation hours, Nancy could go on +the river again. And skating was one of her favorite sports.</p> + +<p>The weather had remained cold all this time <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_198" id="pg_198">198</a></span>and, when it snowed at all, +there had been a high wind which blew the snow (for the most part) off +the ice and so did not put a veto on skating.</p> + +<p>Clinton River was frozen nearly a foot in depth. The ice harvest had +begun, and it was not yet Christmas. But where the men cut for the huge +icebarns was beyond Dr. Dudley’s Academy, and so did not trouble the +girls of Pinewood Hall who desired to skate. Nor did it trouble the boys +from the Academy, either; they were all glad to move up river for their +ice sports.</p> + +<p>Hockey was a favorite game of the boys, and Nancy one afternoon watched +a match game between the crack team of the Academy and one made up of +lads from Clintondale. Bob Endress captained the school team and, Nancy +thought, covered himself with glory.</p> + +<p>To Nancy’s secret disappointment Bob only bowed to her. He never skated +with her again, although she saw him with Grace Montgomery and her +friends.</p> + +<p>Nancy wasn’t particularly enamored of boys; Jennie liked them better +than Nancy did, and was frank to say so, for Jennie was somewhat of a +tomboy and always played with her brothers and their friends when she +was at home.</p> + +<p>Bob Endress, however, had seemed to Nancy to be a particularly nice boy. +And they had had <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_199" id="pg_199">199</a></span>a secret understanding together before Grace and Cora +had found out about Higbee School.</p> + +<p>Nancy said nothing to Jennie about it; but she wondered if Bob felt as +the Montgomery clique did about her—that she was a mere nobody and was +really beneath his notice.</p> + +<p>Of course, Nancy was only a young girl—in her first year at Pinewood +Hall; and Bob Endress was quite three years her senior. Even Corinne +Pevay and Carrie Littlefield showed interest in Bob, although he was +only a junior at Dr. Dudley’s school.</p> + +<p>The girls had so many interests among themselves on the ice, however, +that they did not seek the boys’ society. Besides, this was not +altogether approved. Miss Etching was usually with the girls in the +afternoon, while one of the instructors from the Academy skated with the +boys.</p> + +<p>Grace Montgomery made a great matter of Bob’s being her cousin. It was +known to Miss Etching that the Senator and his wife approved of the +intimacy of their daughter with the boy. Naturally Grace’s friends +attracted Bob’s friends—and there you have it!</p> + +<p>The many girls of Pinewood Hall, however, who found delight in skating +for the sake of the sport itself, welcomed Nancy as one of their own. +They found she could skate splendidly with a <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_200" id="pg_200">200</a></span>partner, that she could +cut figure eights, could do the “long roll,” and otherwise give a good +account of herself on the ice.</p> + +<p>So when it was suggested that there should be a skating contest on the +river one evening just previous to the Christmas holidays, Nancy was +urged to participate. Of course, the older girls expected to carry off +the palm. Corinne Pevay came from Canada, and one or two other girls +lived well up toward the line. So their winters were long and they were +proficient in every winter sport before they came to Pinewood.</p> + +<p>But Jennie urged Nancy to do her best in the long races.</p> + +<p>“That’s where you will have ’em, Nance,” she declared. “Half of these +big girls lose their breath after a little run.”</p> + +<p>So Nancy entered for the two-mile race, which was the “big number” on +the hastily-made-up program. The boys had helped them set stakes, the +distance being ten laps around the course.</p> + +<p>Although the moon was small, the stars were brilliant and on the ice +everything was as plain as day. Miss Maybrick and Miss Meader helped the +physical instructor; and those girls who did not take part in the “ice +carnival,” as they laughingly called it, came down to the river to see +the races.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_201" id="pg_201">201</a></span>Each class rooted for their own champions. Corinne and Carrie were of +course favorites of the seniors; but the juniors were sure they had a +champion in one of their number, and even the sophs shouted for Judy +Craig and were willing to back her even against the Canadian senior who +had, as Jennie Bruce declared, “been born on skates.”</p> + +<p>“But just the same,” said Nancy’s roommate, “you stand a good chance in +the straightaway races and in the two-mile. Don’t you lose courage, +Nance. I’ve watched you and I say that the freshies can afford to cheer +for you, just as the sophs are rooting for Judy.”</p> + +<p>So Nancy went down to the ice that evening very much encouraged—and +more excited than she had ever been since coming to Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_202" id="pg_202">202</a></span> +<a name="THE_RACES_5631" id="THE_RACES_5631"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>THE RACES</h3> +</div> + +<p>The straightaway races came first. Corinne, in her cherry-colored +sweater and black cap and black, short skirt, looked startlingly pretty. +And how she could skate—for a little way!</p> + +<p>Between posts the Canadian senior carried off all honors—beating every +other girl easily.</p> + +<p>And she could do fancy “stunts” like a boy—whirling on one skate after +a running start, cutting the double-eight, spinning like a top—oh, a +whole lot of things that Nancy, or any other younger girl, had never +attempted.</p> + +<p>Yet when they lined up for the second race—one lap around the +course—Nancy, who chanced to stand next to Corinne, knew that the +captain of the West Side was breathing too heavily for a girl just +entering a trial of speed.</p> + +<p>“She’s not going to win this time,” thought Nancy, and looked down the +line of contestants. Cora Rathmore was near the far end. “I hope <i>she</i> +won’t be the lucky one,” thought Nancy.</p> + +<p>Nancy was scarcely ready at the start. She <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_203" id="pg_203">203</a></span>“got off” badly. But to her +surprise she found herself keeping well up with the bigger girls. And +she did not have to exert herself much, either.</p> + +<p>Corinne began to laugh, and Nancy passed her.</p> + +<p>“Go on, Nancy, for the honor of our side!” gasped the Canadian. “I’m out +of this race.”</p> + +<p>Spurred by her words Nancy “let out a link,” as Jennie Bruce would have +said. She found that there were other contestants that she could easily +pass. When they turned the stake only Cora, Carrie Littlefield, Judy +Craig, and one or two others were ahead.</p> + +<p>To skate rapidly one should not use a “rolling” stroke; and Nancy saw +that Carrie, the biggest girl ahead, was striking out too widely. She +dashed from side to side of the course, taking up more than her just +share, indeed, and covering more ice than was necessary.</p> + +<p>Nancy took short, quick strokes. Her method was a bit jerky, perhaps, +and lacked grace; but she was going straight down the stretch to the +“home” stake, and before they had covered half the distance Nancy passed +Carrie, and then Judy Craig.</p> + +<p>But there was Cora Rathmore, her oldtime roommate and enemy, right +ahead. Cora seemed to deliberately block her way, for occasionally she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_204" id="pg_204">204</a></span>threw a glance behind her, and changed her course as Nancy tried to +slip by.</p> + +<p>The race was not between Cora and Nancy. There were two older girls +ahead and it would have been hardly possible, at this stage of the +contest, for either of the freshmen to overtake the leaders.</p> + +<p>But it was evident that the Rathmore girl did not intend to let Nancy +pass her. Once again the latter tried to turn out; and then, seeing that +Cora flung herself that way, Nancy struck into a wide curve that should +have taken her completely around Cora.</p> + +<p>But as Nancy struck her left skate upon the ice again, something clashed +with it, checked her course abruptly and, if she had not flung herself +sideways upon the ice, and slid, she might have wrenched her foot badly.</p> + +<p>“Oh! oh!” shrieked Jennie. “Nancy’s been thrown!”</p> + +<p>But her friend picked herself up at once, and with a laugh skated on +after the other contestants. One of the first-class girls won.</p> + +<p>“How did you come to fall?” demanded Jennie, with lively interest.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it must have been a twig sticking up in the ice,” declared Cora, +before Nancy could reply. “You can’t see them at night.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_205" id="pg_205">205</a></span>“Was that it, Nance?” demanded Jennie, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“It—it must have been,” admitted Nancy. But in her heart of hearts +Nancy knew that she had stumbled over the toe of Cora Rathmore’s skate. +The girl had deliberately thrown her.</p> + +<p>It made no difference in the result of the race. Nancy could not have +won, she knew. But it warned her to look out for Cora Rathmore if she +raced again with her.</p> + +<p>Nancy rested after that, refusing to enter any of the minor contests +until the long race—the <i>pièce de résistance</i> of the evening—was +called.</p> + +<p>This was the endurance test that Miss Etching was anxious to have go off +well. The physical instructor of Pinewood Hall had an object in putting +her girls against a two-mile skate. More than Jennie Bruce had noted the +fact that many of the best skaters among the juniors and seniors lacked +“wind.”</p> + +<p>It was hard for the instructor to watch all the girls closely enough to +be sure that they dressed properly even in the gym work. She had warned +them to dress loosely under their warm sweaters for the ice, too; for in +skating every muscle in the body needs free play.</p> + +<p>But certain girls, like Grace Montgomery among the freshmen, and the +dressier girls of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_206" id="pg_206">206</a></span>older classes, gabbled a deal more than was good +for them about their “figures,” and studied the fashion-plates too much.</p> + +<p>But there were the warm dressing rooms in the boathouse for the girls to +change in, and those who entered for the ten-lap race took advantage of +these rooms to lay aside any garment that trammeled their movements. +They all realized that it was an endurance test.</p> + +<p>Thirty-eight girls were called by Miss Etching to line up for the long +race. Some of them, of course, didn’t have a ghost of a show for honors +in the trial of speed and endurance; but they wanted to show what they +could do.</p> + +<p>Jennie Bruce herself was one of the contestants; but, as she told Nancy, +she didn’t expect to go half the distance. Some of the seniors who were +in earnest remarked that they didn’t see the use in letting the +“greenies” clutter up the ice. But Miss Etching had announced it as a +free-for-all race and the big girls could not freeze out the contestants +from the younger classes.</p> + +<p>Indeed, the classes were each backing their own champions. The seniors +were strongly for Corinne Pevay, who had recovered her breath and +promised to bring home the prize. Carrie Littlefield was a favorite with +the class that would graduate the next June from Pinewood Hall, too.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_207" id="pg_207">207</a></span>The juniors had half a dozen girls who all believed they could bear off +the palm. Judy Craig was being “rooted” for by the sophomores. Of +course, none of the three upper classes believed that a freshman had a +chance; but Grace Montgomery had reserved herself all the evening for +this contest, and now her friends were noisily declaring that she could +win “if she tried.”</p> + +<p>“She’d better try, then,” observed Jennie, with a laugh. “And try mighty +hard, too. Some of those big girls have raced before and they have +trained several terms under Miss Etching.”</p> + +<p>“You’re not loyal to the class,” declared Cora Rathmore, sharply.</p> + +<p>“I should worry! I’d like to see a freshman win; but Grace hasn’t a +chance.”</p> + +<p>“She’ll show you,” cried Sally, Jennie’s former roommate. “Grace +Montgomery is a splendid skater. And you’ve never seen her really let +herself out.”</p> + +<p>“Say! she ‘lets herself out’ every time she speaks,” growled Jennie. “We +all know what she is—bluff and bluster!”</p> + +<p>“Is that so, Miss Smartie!” exclaimed Cora Rathmore, standing up for the +girl she toadied to. “Let me tell you that Grace is the most popular +girl in our class. Wait till we have election for class president.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_208" id="pg_208">208</a></span>“I’m waiting,” remarked Jennie, calmly. “But what will <i>that</i> have to +do with Grace Montgomery?”</p> + +<p>“You’ll find out then how popular she is.”</p> + +<p>“I will, and so will she,” chuckled Jennie, suddenly all a-smile.</p> + +<p>“You don’t believe she will have the most votes?”</p> + +<p>“Not, unless she puts them all in herself,” laughed Jennie. “Why! if +Grace had a chance to be class president I’d go into sackcloth and ashes +during the rest of the year.”</p> + +<p>“You wait and see!” snapped Cora.</p> + +<p>In her heart Jennie believed that the only girl among the freshmen +entries who had the least chance to win the long race was Nancy. But she +knew that this wasn’t the time to begin “rooting” for her friend.</p> + +<p>Indeed, the best way to do was to cheer for all the freshies entered +until they showed—within the first few laps—what they could do. And to +this method Jennie,—a leader among the younger girls,—clung.</p> + +<p>At the starting shot—for Miss Etching was not afraid of a pistol and +used it to start the race—the thirty-eight girls got away from the line +without much confusion. The best skaters were quickly in the lead, so +that there was little entanglement <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_209" id="pg_209">209</a></span>at the first stake. By that time the +girls were strung out for some yards.</p> + +<p>Rounding the home stake for the first time, the seniors and juniors, +with Judy Craig and—to Jennie’s surprise—Grace Montgomery and Cora, +were in the lead. Nancy was trailing them easily, but it worried Jennie.</p> + +<p>The latter lost her head and did all her best work—put out every bit of +strength she had—in the second lap. She passed Nancy and many of the +other girls belonging to the freshies and sophs; but she could not reach +Grace and Cora. Judy Craig fell back, however.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the third lap more than half the girls dropped out. +The leaders were so far ahead it was useless for them to continue. And +their dropping out cleared the course for the real contestants.</p> + +<p>Jennie fell back in that third lap, and Nancy passed her, still skating +easily, and about half a lap behind the leaders.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, Nance! Do hurry up and beat them,” gasped Jennie. “I’d hate +to see Grace—or Cora—carry off the glory for our class.”</p> + +<p>Nancy did not speak; she only smiled. She saved her breath—as Jennie +might better have done.</p> + +<p>For, at the beginning of the fourth lap, both <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_210" id="pg_210">210</a></span>of the girls who called +themselves leaders of the freshmen class began to fall back, although +they still struggled. The race was not half over and only ten girls +remained in it. Jennie fairly fell to the ice, and sat there, panting. +But she cheered Nancy when her chum passed her on the next—the +fifth—round.</p> + +<p>“Go it, old ‘slow but sure!’” she cried. “You’re going to make your +mark, I see.”</p> + +<p>It was only a few minutes later that Nancy, without increasing her +speed, was right on the heels of Grace and Cora.</p> + +<p>Ahead of these two freshmen were only two seniors, four juniors, and one +soph. The leading girls—three of them—were more than half a lap ahead +of Nancy; the others were strung out along the course.</p> + +<p>Grace and Cora saw Nancy creeping up on them. They were losing ground +steadily, and there was no “spurt” in them. Cora, indeed, was crying +with vexation and nervousness.</p> + +<p>“She’s going to pass us, Grace—the nasty thing!” she panted.</p> + +<p>“Keep up, Cora!” begged her friend, and deliberately crossed in front of +Nancy at the post, to keep her back.</p> + +<p>Nancy lost stroke a little. They came down the course toward the home +stake on this—the fifth—lap. Miss Etching <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_211" id="pg_211">211</a></span>skated slowly forward to +eye the line of struggling girls. She had personally taken several of +the younger contestants out of the race because she saw that they were +doing too much.</p> + +<p>Nancy tried to shoot ahead of her two classmates again. Grace and Cora +almost collided in their attempt to balk Nancy.</p> + +<p>But the physical instructor saw them.</p> + +<p>“Miss Montgomery! Miss Rathmore! Out of the race!” she commanded, in a +tone that was heard by most of the spectators gathered near.</p> + +<p>“And just as I was getting my second wind!” cried Grace, angrily, as she +came down to her waiting friends.</p> + +<p>“I put you out for fouling,” declared Miss Etching, firmly. “Miss +Rathmore, too. You are traitors to your class. Miss Nelson has a chance +to make a record for you and you deliberately tried to keep her back. +She is the freshest girl on the ice at this moment,” declared the +teacher, with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>But Nancy did not hear this. She had rounded the stake in the wake of +the older girls, and kept “plugging along” as though tireless. She was +doing her part as usual—faithfully but not brilliantly—and had no idea +that she was in danger of making a record for the freshman class.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_212" id="pg_212">212</a></span> +<a name="THE_FRESHMAN_ELECTION_5897" id="THE_FRESHMAN_ELECTION_5897"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>THE FRESHMAN ELECTION</h3> +</div> + +<p>The night was cold, but delightful. Nancy Nelson had never felt so sure +upon her skates, or so able to keep up her steady stroke for a long +distance, as she did now.</p> + +<p>The struggle earlier in the evening had seemed to put the right temper +into her muscles. Having been relieved by Miss Etching of the two +girls—her own classmates—who had attempted to retard her progress, +Nancy kept on and on, seeing the distance between herself and the +leaders in the race diminishing—by no effort of her own, it seemed—and +just enjoying herself.</p> + +<p>She skated past Judy Craig, and saw that that eager sophomore was +sobbing for breath, and could hardly stand. Nancy felt little weariness +and still enjoyed the pace. She had not spurted in the beginning and +waited for that wonderful “second wind” that is the help of all +long-distance racers, before increasing her first easy pace.</p> + +<p>Now she increased her stroke for a second time, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_213" id="pg_213">213</a></span>and almost at once +flashed past two of the older girls. One of them was a senior.</p> + +<p>The crowd began to shout for her when Nancy came around the home stake +now. Jennie Bruce led the freshmen rooters, and the volume of sound they +made showed that there were few “dyed-in-the-wool” Montgomeryites, after +all.</p> + +<p>Nancy Nelson, the single remaining freshman on the ice, was the hope of +the class. Corinne and Carrie and one of the juniors were still +struggling far ahead; but the school as a whole soon began to be more +deeply interested in the progress of Nancy than in the struggle of the +leading girls.</p> + +<p>“That little Nelson is making them all look sick,” declared the stout +soph, Belle Macdonald. “I hated to see our Judy drop out; but I’d rather +see a freshman win over those juniors and seniors, if a sophomore can’t +do it.”</p> + +<p>“Pah!” exclaimed Cora Rathmore, “Nelson hasn’t a chance with that +Canuck. None of us had.”</p> + +<p>“Nancy is skating easier than all of them,” observed one of the other +girls.</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t it be odd if a freshman <i>should</i> win?” cried Sally.</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t be funny at all if that Nancy Nelson won,” snapped Cora. +“That nobody!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_214" id="pg_214">214</a></span>“There’d be no living with her at all, then,” added Grace Montgomery.</p> + +<p>“Hurrah for Nance!” shouted Jennie Bruce, when the contestants swung +past the home stake again. “She’s going to win!”</p> + +<p>The racers began their eighth lap. Not until now had Jennie really +believed her own statement—that Nancy had a chance to win. But it +actually began to look so.</p> + +<p>They came around again. Carrie had dropped far behind Corinne and the +junior. Nancy was swinging along, hands clasped behind her back, taking +each stroke firmly—rolling just a little, indeed—and seemingly almost +as fresh as when she began.</p> + +<p>“Bully for you, Nancy Nelson!” many of the freshies cried. “Show ’em +what you can do! Don’t give up, Nancy!”</p> + +<p>But Nancy had no intention of giving up. She believed she could keep on +to the end, and without reducing speed. And on the ninth lap she passed +Carrie.</p> + +<p>Only two were ahead of her now. As she swung down the home-stretch +behind the senior and junior, Nancy’s mates began to shout like mad +girls:</p> + +<p>“Come on! Come on! Don’t let ’em freeze you out, Nancy Nelson!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_215" id="pg_215">215</a></span>“You’re going to beat, Nance!” cried Jennie Bruce, fairly jumping up +and down. “Show ’em what you can do!”</p> + +<p>There was only one more lap—one-fifth of a mile. Nancy drew in a long +breath as she rounded the stake, and looked ahead. Corinne and her +nearest antagonist had spurted a little; but Nancy put her head down, +and darted up the course at a speed which equalled what the other girls +had done at their best.</p> + +<p>It was really wonderful how swiftly the freshman overtook her older +rivals. Nancy skated more swiftly than she had in that first dash of the +evening.</p> + +<p>There was nobody to shut her off now. Cora was not here to foil or trip +her. Corinne and the junior played fair.</p> + +<p>Before the older girls reached the rounding stake, Nancy flashed past +them. The junior spurted, came even with Nancy for a moment at and turn, +and then dropped back, to become a bad third in the race. She could +never recover after that spurt.</p> + +<p>But the French-Canadian girl held on grimly. Slowly she crept up on the +freshman. The seniors shouted for their champion; but the rest of the +school was calling Nancy home!</p> + +<p>“Oh, Nancy! Oh, Nancy! Come on!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_216" id="pg_216">216</a></span>Nancy heard Jennie Bruce’s voice above all the turmoil ahead. Her eyes +had begun to water, and the white, badly cut-up ice of the straight +course seemed to waver before her.</p> + +<p>At her ear she could hear Corinne’s labored breathing. The ring of her +rival’s skates rasped upon the younger girl’s nerves, too.</p> + +<p>She was under a great strain now. Another full lap would have been more +than she could have skated without a breakdown. It was being pressed so +close and hard that was wearing Nancy down. She was not used to such +contests.</p> + +<p>But her roommate’s cracked voice, shouting again and again for her, kept +Nancy to the mark. Corinne should <i>not</i> pass her!</p> + +<p>She flung herself forward against the wind and worked with teeth that +sank into her lip and drew the blood! On—on—on——</p> + +<p>She felt something against her hands—against her breast—she was +tangled up in it! Something had fouled her, and she had failed, for +Corinne swept by at that moment.</p> + +<p>And then the girls caught her—Jennie and many of her own class, as well +as some of the older girls. They were cheering her, and praising her +work—for it was the tape she had run against.</p> + +<p>The race was finished and Nancy had won!</p> + +<p>Three-quarters of the school were on the ice. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_217" id="pg_217">217</a></span>Something like three +hundred girls can make a lot of noise!</p> + +<p>And there was only a tiny group that broke away from the main body and +went home in the sulks because Nancy had won the race. Of course this +was the Montgomery clique.</p> + +<p>“I can tell you right now who <i>won’t</i> be president of our class,” +whispered Jennie to Cora Rathmore before the latter got away in Grace +Montgomery’s train.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you think Nancy Nelson will!” snapped Cora.</p> + +<p>It was the first time the idea had come into Jennie’s mind.</p> + +<p>It was only three days before the breaking up for the holidays. +Everybody was so enthusiastic about Nancy, that Jennie’s work was half +done for her.</p> + +<p>To see the quietest girl in the school, yet the one who stood highest in +her own class, praised and fêted by the seniors, made Nancy’s +fellow-classmates consider her of more importance than ever before.</p> + +<p>So Jennie’s work was easy. She went among the freshies and +whispered—first to one alone, then to two together, then to little +groups. And the burden of her tale was always the same:</p> + +<p>“The Madame will stand for her—you see! <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_218" id="pg_218">218</a></span>She’s the best little sport +there is in the class. She’s scarcely had a mark against her, yet she’s +no goody-goody.</p> + +<p>“See how she stood for those other girls who treated her so meanly—and +never opened her mouth. Why, the Madame could have burned her at the +stake and Nance would never have said a word to incriminate that +Montgomery crowd.</p> + +<p>“And there won’t be a teacher to object. She’s on all their good books. +Me? Of course I’ve an axe to grind,” and Jennie laughed. “She’s my +roommate, and if she gets the ‘high hat’ I’ll hope to bask in her +reflected glory.”</p> + +<p>Jennie Bruce was an excellent politician. Had it lain with the girls +alone, lively Jennie might have been president of the freshman class +herself. But the girls knew that the Madame would never allow it. +Jennie’s record for the weeks she had been a student at Pinewood Hall +precluded such an honor.</p> + +<p>The day before the break-up the members of the freshman class voted for +president. Each girl sealed her vote in an envelope and the numbered +envelopes were passed into the Madame’s office.</p> + +<p>At supper that night, at the time when the school captains marched +around the room “to inspect the girls’ hair-ribbons,” as Jennie said, +Corinne brought a high, old-fashioned, much dented beaver hat in her +hand.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:363px"> +<a name="illus-002" id="illus-002"></a> +<img src="images/illus-003.jpg" alt="NANCY FLASHED PAST THEM. _Page 215._" title="" width="363" /><br /> +<span class="caption">NANCY FLASHED PAST THEM. _Page 215._</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_219" id="pg_219">219</a></span><i>That</i> didn’t tell the eager freshmen anything, for both the principal +candidates for president of the class had been from the girls rooming on +the West Side, and therefore were under Corinne’s jurisdiction.</p> + +<p>Grace Montgomery’s friends began to cheer for her. The friends of the +other candidates—and there were several—kept still.</p> + +<p>“Wait!” advised Jennie, in a stage whisper. “We can afford to yell all +the louder a little later—maybe.”</p> + +<p>But Corinne tantalized the smaller girls by walking all around the +tables the first time without putting the tall hat on any girl’s head. +Once or twice she hesitated behind a girl’s chair; but that only made +the others laugh, for they knew that <i>those</i> particular girls had had no +chance of election anyway.</p> + +<p>“Come on!” shouted Cora. “You might as well bring it over here where it +belongs,” and she put an arm over the blushing Grace’s shoulders.</p> + +<p>But Grace did her blushing for nothing. Corinne crossed the room +swiftly, came straight to the corner where Jennie sat, and——</p> + +<p>Drew the hat firmly down over Nancy Nelson’s ears!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_220" id="pg_220">220</a></span>Nancy could scarcely believe it. She—Miss Nobody from Nowhere—the +most popular girl in her class? It was like a dream—only, as she +admitted to Jennie, laughing, it was a dreadfully noisy dream!</p> + +<p>Corinne could scarcely command silence long enough to read the result of +the balloting. Nancy had received nearly one-half of the freshman vote. +Grace Montgomery had mustered only eight ballots, while the remainder +were scattered among half a dozen other candidates.</p> + +<p>The disappointed girls, all but Grace, cheered Nancy, too—and hugged +her, and made her march ahead of the class, all around the big dining +room, and then into the hall, which was given up to the use of the +freshman class for that particular evening.</p> + +<p>There the complete organization of the class was arranged, and Nancy +presided with pretty dignity, and even Grace Montgomery and her friends +had to acknowledge the leadership of the girl whom they had so +ill-treated for the past weeks.</p> + +<p>Many of the girls went home the next day for the ten days’ vacation. +Those who lived at a distance, however, remained at Pinewood. So Nancy +was not alone over the short vacation as she wont to be at Higbee +School.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_221" id="pg_221">221</a></span>Jennie lived not far from Cincinnati, and she couldn’t remain away from +home at Christmas.</p> + +<p>“I wish you were going with me, you dear old thing!” she said to Nancy, +hugging her. “You wait till I tell mother about you! You shall go home +with me at Easter—if that Old Gordon will let you; and if you like it +at my home we’ll have you part of the long vacation, too.</p> + +<p>“And I’m going to get my big brother, John, to take me into the city +while I’m home, and I’m going to see Scorch. Just think! Maybe we can +find out all about what Mr. Gordon is hiding from you.”</p> + +<p>“If he is hiding anything, Jennie,” said Nancy, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>And yet, after all the wonderful things that had happened to her of +late, Nancy could almost believe that even the mystery of her identity +might in time be solved.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_222" id="pg_222">222</a></span> +<a name="SENATOR_MONTGOMERY_6163" id="SENATOR_MONTGOMERY_6163"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>SENATOR MONTGOMERY</h3> +</div> + +<p>But Jennie Bruce came back to Pinewood Hall after the holidays with no +news of importance for her roommate and chum.</p> + +<p>“I saw that red-headed boy,” she said. “My goodness me, Nance! what a +freak he is,” and Jennie burst into laughter at the remembrance of +Scorch O’Brien. “John and I took him to luncheon and John couldn’t eat +for laughing at him.”</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> think Scorch is real nice,” said Nancy, smiling reflectively.</p> + +<p>“Oh, he’s strong for <i>you</i>, all right,” admitted Jennie, nodding. “He +thinks you are about the only girl who ever came into his sweet young +life——”</p> + +<p>“What nonsense!” said Nancy, blushing, but smiling, too.</p> + +<p>“All right. He’s willing to go to desperate lengths to help you, just +the same,” and Jennie smiled in remembrance of the red-haired youth’s +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_223" id="pg_223">223</a></span>“I guess it’s mostly talk. Scorch dearly loves to talk,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“He wanted John to help him rob ‘Old Gordon’s’ private safe,” laughed +Jennie. “He says he believes there are papers in that safe that would +explain all about you. He wanted John to stay over that night and stand +watch while he, Scorch, opened the safe with something he called a +jimmy!”</p> + +<p>“The ridiculous boy!” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“But I tell you!” exclaimed Jennie, “John works for a man who knows your +Mr. Gordon. John is going to get Mr. Pennywell to find out—if he +can—from Mr. Gordon if he really knows more about your folks than he is +willing to tell you. Mr. Pennywell is a client—and a good client—of +your Mr. Gordon. Hateful old thing!”</p> + +<p>“But perhaps he <i>isn’t</i> hateful,” Nancy objected, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>“I bet he is. Scorch says he is hiding something. That boy is bright.”</p> + +<p>“Really brilliant—when it comes to his hair,” suggested Nancy, +laughing.</p> + +<p>But there were so many other things to take up the thoughts of the two +chums after this brief separation, that the mystery about Nancy figured +little in their activities for a time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_224" id="pg_224">224</a></span>Nancy’s new dignity as president of the class bore heavily upon her at +first, for she feared that she would not discharge her duty to the other +freshmen in a proper way.</p> + +<p>The Montgomery clique was of course a continual thorn in her side. It +never numbered, however, more than eight or ten girls of that class. +Grace made many of her friends in the sophomore class.</p> + +<p>The teachers, however, were decidedly in favor of Nancy. She gained the +head of her classes in most studies, and did not slight lessons to join +in the fun of the other girls. Yet she was no prig—no matter what Grace +and Cora said.</p> + +<p>A rather solemn thought had come to the girl on the night of that day +when she had started to run away from Pinewood Hall. Suppose she should, +suddenly and without warning, be thrown upon her own resources?</p> + +<p>Most girls of Nancy’s age do not think of such unpleasant things. Nor, +in many cases, could such an unhappy turn of circumstances affect them.</p> + +<p>Yet it might happen at any time to Nancy. That was the way she felt +about it.</p> + +<p>Suppose the mysterious fountain from which, through the channel of Mr. +Gordon, flowed the money to support her, suddenly should dry up?</p> + +<p>She could be pretty sure that Mr. Gordon would <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_225" id="pg_225">225</a></span>not go on supporting her +and paying for her schooling, and all. No, indeed! He had not struck +Nancy in her single interview with him as being that sort of a man.</p> + +<p>So with this thought hovering in the background Nancy made the most of +her opportunities as the days passed. She was determined to learn +everything Pinewood Hall and its mistress and instructors had to teach +her.</p> + +<p>She learned to be an expert typewriter before Easter, and improved her +spelling immensely. Other girls had the same opportunity, if they cared +to exercise it; for there were plenty of machines they could learn on as +Nancy did. But few of the girls at Pinewood Hall cared to take “extras.” +Most of their parents were very well-to-do, and why should they exert +themselves to merely practical things?</p> + +<p>Nancy took up stenography with gentle Miss Meader, too. The latter acted +as the Madame’s secretary, so she had practical use for shorthand. She +and Nancy corresponded daily in the “pothooks,” as Jennie Bruce called +the stenographic signs.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, Nancy managed to cram into her waking hours an immense +amount of fun as well as lessons. The Madame did not believe that all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_226" id="pg_226">226</a></span>work was good for Jill, any more than it is good for Jack.</p> + +<p>When the snow came there was sleigh-riding, class parties being made up +while the moon was big, the girls going off in great “barges,” which +would hold from forty to sixty of them, and stopping at a certain +country tavern, of which Madame Schakael approved, where hot oyster +stews were served.</p> + +<p>Then, before Lent, there was the big dance of the year, when the girls +of Pinewood Hall and the boys of the Clinton Academy mingled under the +shrewd eyes of their respective heads.</p> + +<p>Dr. Dudley was a solemn, long-faced, stiff-looking old gentleman, with a +great mop of sandy hair brushed off his high brow, who never looked +really dressed unless he had on a tall hat and a frock coat. In dancing +pumps and a white waistcoat and tail coat he looked rather ridiculous.</p> + +<p>And when he led out Madame Schakael—who looked like a sweet-faced +French doll—for the grand march, they really did look funny together.</p> + +<p>But it was no stiff and formal ball after the “heads” of the two schools +were off the floor. The boys and girls had a most delightful time—even +Nancy enjoyed it, although she, like most of the freshmen, played +wallflower a good part of the time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_227" id="pg_227">227</a></span>Nancy saw Bob Endress, but merely to bow to. He seemed always to have +his “hands full” with the older girls, or with Grace Montgomery and her +satellites. But Nancy’s mind lingered upon boys very little. She danced +with other girls and had quite as good a time, she was sure, as she +should have had had Bob Endress danced every number with her.</p> + +<p>So passed the winter and the spring, and the Easter holidays came. Nancy +had received a very prettily-worded invitation from Jennie’s mother to +spend these with them.</p> + +<p>It was the first invitation of the kind Nancy Nelson had ever received, +so you can imagine how overjoyed she was. Madame Schakael approved. Then +it was necessary to get Mr. Gordon’s permission.</p> + +<p>Nancy had thanked Mr. Gordon for the twenty-dollar bill he had sent her, +but had not heard personally from him in reply. She had broken an +understood rule, too, to write twice to Scorch O’Brien—just little +notes thanking him for remembering her.</p> + +<p>By the way, the twenty dollars that had been lent to Cora Rathmore to +pay for the famous supper in Number 30 when Nancy had been frozen out, +had never been returned, either completely, or in part. Cora Rathmore +seemed to have forgotten <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_228" id="pg_228">228</a></span>her debt to Nancy when she returned from her +holiday at Christmas time.</p> + +<p>Corinne suspected that Nancy had not been repaid; but nobody else really +knew anything about it—not even Jennie. Nancy would not talk about it +when some of the girls became curious.</p> + +<p>She had not needed the money for anything. At New Year’s Mr. Gordon had +sent her a ten-dollar note, but through Madame Schakael. When she asked +him if she could go home with Jennie Bruce over Easter, he sent her at +once another twenty dollars and his permission—the latter just as short +as it could be written.</p> + +<p>Scorch evidently watched the mail basket on Mr. Gordon’s desk with the +eye of an eagle. A second letter with the card of the law firm upon it +was put into Nancy’s hand almost in the same mail with Mr. Gordon’s +letter. Such letters passed through the Madame’s hands without being +opened. It was a secret that troubled Nancy sometimes; yet she could not +“give Scorch away.” This was Scorch’s letter:</p> + +<p class='ni mtr5'>“<span class="sc">Dear Miss Nancy</span>:</p> + +<p>“I see Old Gordon has risked another perfectly good yellow-back in +the mail. He’ll ruin the morals of the mail clerks (I rote that +word ‘mail’ wrong before) if he keeps on. Know how I seen <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_229" id="pg_229">229</a></span>the +yellow-back in the letter? I punched a hole with a pin in the +crease of the envelope at each end. Squeeze the sides of the +envelope together a little and then squint through from one hole to +the other. That’s an old one.</p> + +<p>I want you to know I’m on the job. That Jennie girl you sent to me +is some peach; but she ain’t in your class for looks, just the +same. Her brother is a pretty good feller, too; but we couldn’t get +together on any scheme for jolting what you want to know out of Old +Gordon. The time will come, just the same. When it does, I’m little +Johnny On-the-Spot—don’t forget that.</p> + +<p>So no more at present, from</p> + +<p class='nm r' style='margin-right:4em;'>“Yours very respectfully,</p> +<p class='r mbr5' style='margin-right:0em;'><span class="sc">“Scorch O’Brien</span>.”</p> + +<p>There was not time to answer Scorch at once; but when Nancy was at +Jennie’s home the girls wrote to the office boy of Ambrose, Necker & +Boles and invited him to come out to see them. But Scorch was bashful +and did not come; so Nancy returned to Pinewood without seeing her +champion.</p> + +<p>A great many things happened after that spring vacation—the last half +of Nancy’s freshman term—which might be told about; but we may only +relate a few of them.</p> + +<p>Her record was splendid. Her government of her class satisfied everybody +but the Montgomery <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_230" id="pg_230">230</a></span>faction. Grace and Cora did all they safely could +throughout the term to trouble Nancy. Sometimes they succeeded; but she +had learned not to “carry her heart on her sleeve.”</p> + +<p>Corinne, Carrie, and the rest of the seniors were all in a flutter +because of approaching graduation. The other girls—junior, sophomore, +and freshman—often discussed eagerly what the summer vacation had in +store for them.</p> + +<p>For the first time in her young life, Nancy Nelson looked forward, too, +to the summer with delight. She was going home with Jennie just as soon +as school closed—that is, unless Mr. Gordon should object. And it was +not believed that he would.</p> + +<p>Jennie’s parents and brothers and sisters were just as well pleased with +the quiet little orphan as Jennie herself had been. They were glad to +have her in their big house between terms.</p> + +<p>So June approached, and the yearly exams, and other finishing work, +loomed ahead.</p> + +<p>Pinewood Hall was a beautiful place now. The park was in its very best +condition. Mr. Pease and Samuel, and their helpers, made every path +straight and clean, raked the groves of all rubbish, and the two horse +mowers and the roller were at work on the lawns, making them like velvet +carpets.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_231" id="pg_231">231</a></span>Nancy came out of Jessie Pease’s cottage one day to see a handsome man +in a gray suit, with gray spats, and gray hair, and even a gray silk +shirt, walking slowly up the drive toward the Hall. In the shade of the +trees (it was a hot day) he removed his gray, broad-brimmed hat. And out +of that hat fell his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>When Nancy, hastening, picked up this article, she found that it was +silk, with a gray border, too, and an initial in one corner. The initial +was “M.”</p> + +<p>“You dropped this, sir, I think,” she said, timidly, coming abreast of +the stranger.</p> + +<p>He turned to look at her. He had heavy, smoothly-shaven jowls and not a +very healthy complexion. His eyes were little, and green. Nancy had +expected to see a very handsome, noble-looking old gentleman. Instead, +she saw a very sly-looking man, with something mean and furtive in his +manner, despite his fine build and immaculate dress.</p> + +<p>“Ah! thank you, thank you, my pretty miss,” he said, accepting the +handkerchief. “It is a very warm day.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” responded Nancy, politely.</p> + +<p>“And you, I suppose, go to school here at Pinewood?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_232" id="pg_232">232</a></span>“A beautiful place! A very beautiful place,” said the stranger. “You +may be acquainted with a girl named Montgomery, now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Nancy, with gravity.</p> + +<p>“Now, where might she be found at this hour?”</p> + +<p>Nancy chanced to have seen Grace and some of her satellites sitting in a +pergola on a mound not far away. She pointed out the path to the +stranger.</p> + +<p>“Thank you—thank you, my dear,” said the gray man, and insisted upon +shaking hands with her.</p> + +<p>Indeed, he looked curiously after her as she passed on. Then, as he +turned to follow the path pointed out to him, he shook his head, saying, +under his breath:</p> + +<p>“Strange! Familiar, somehow. Looks familiar——”</p> + +<p>A cry warned him that he was seen. Flying down from the pergola came +Grace, with Cora close behind her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Father! you dear! I’m so glad to see you!” exclaimed Grace.</p> + +<p>“So unexpected, dear Senator Montgomery,” said Cora, in quite a grown-up +way.</p> + +<p>The Senator welcomed them; but he looked again after the retreating +Nancy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_233" id="pg_233">233</a></span>“Who is that pretty girl, Grace?” he asked, pointing out the object of +his interest.</p> + +<p>“Pretty girl, indeed!” ejaculated Cora, under her breath.</p> + +<p>“Why it’s nobody but that Nelson—Nancy Nelson. A mere nobody.”</p> + +<p>“What name did you say?” demanded the senator, his green eyes very +bright for a moment, and a little color coming into his face.</p> + +<p>“Nancy Nelson.”</p> + +<p>“Who is she?”</p> + +<p>“That’s what we all ask,” remarked his daughter, with an unpleasant +laugh.</p> + +<p>“Why do you say that, Grace?”</p> + +<p>“Why, she’s a nobody. She’s got no friends, and no home—it’s a disgrace +to have her here at Pinewood. I wish you’d say something to the Madame +about her.”</p> + +<p>“They tried to make <i>me</i> room with her,” said Cora Rathmore, boldly; +“but I wouldn’t stand for that long.”</p> + +<p>The Senator looked grave. “Come, tell me all about Nancy Nelson,” he +enjoined them, and sat down on a neighboring bench to listen.</p> + +<p>Grace and Cora told their highly-colored version of the story circulated +about Nancy during the first few weeks of her sojourn at Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_234" id="pg_234">234</a></span>“And do tell Madame Schakael what you think of her letting such a girl +into the school,” begged Grace, as the Senator arose and started towards +the Hall again.</p> + +<p>He did not say that he would. But to himself the Senator muttered, with +puckered brow and half-shut eyes:</p> + +<p>“Who would have thought it! That girl here—right where I sent Grace! +I—I certainly shall have to see Gordon about this. Hang his impudence! +What does he mean by sending that girl to a place like this?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:363px"> +<a name="illus-003" id="illus-003"></a> +<img src="images/illus-004.jpg" alt=""YOU MAY BE ACQUAINTED WITH A GIRL NAMED MONTGOMERY?" _Page 232._" title="" width="363" /><br /> +<span class="caption">"YOU MAY BE ACQUAINTED WITH A GIRL NAMED MONTGOMERY?" _Page 232._</span> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_235" id="pg_235">235</a></span> +<a name="IS_IT_A_CLUE_6504" id="IS_IT_A_CLUE_6504"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>IS IT A CLUE?</h3> +</div> + +<p>The most beautiful sight she had ever seen! That was what Nancy Nelson +enthusiastically called it when, from the end of the long line of girls, +walking two by two, she saw the flower-crowned seniors winding from the +Hall, through the sun-spattered grounds, to the old brick church on the +highway, beyond the estate, where the baccalaureate sermon was always +preached.</p> + +<p>No girl, she was sure, could ever be disloyal to Pinewood Hall, after +having once seen the graduation procession. And then, the graduating +girls themselves! Why, they were all ready for college!</p> + +<p>How much they must know! Nancy sighed with envy, and hoped heartily that +she would be able to remain at Pinewood long enough to be a chief figure +in a similar spectacle.</p> + +<p>Corinne Pevay looked like an angel. And Carrie Littlefield read the +valedictory. To the mind of the girl just finishing her freshman year, +these great girls—real young ladies, now!—were <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_236" id="pg_236">236</a></span>so far above her that +it almost made her blink to look at them.</p> + +<p>At Higbee School class after class had been graduated above Nancy, and +she had seen the day approach—even her own graduation—without much +excitement. But this was an entirely different occasion.</p> + +<p>She had something to look forward to this summer. At the break-up for +the long vacation she was going to have just as much part in the bustle +as anyone.</p> + +<p>Jessie Pease had already looked over her wardrobe, and there were +several new summer dresses, including swimming and boating costumes. Mr. +Gordon had sent the extra money needed without comment or objection.</p> + +<p>And now Nancy’s trunk was packed, and her bag, and with Jennie Bruce she +was ready to take the first ’bus that left for the Clintondale station +in the morning.</p> + +<p>How different from her coming to the school in September!</p> + +<p>She was at the head of her class. The freshmen had given her an +overwhelming vote for class president for the soph. year. And Corinne +had prophesied that she would yet be captain of the West Side—when she +grew to be a senior.</p> + +<p>Girls ran to kiss her before she got into the <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_237" id="pg_237">237</a></span>’bus, and stood and waved +their hands after her as it rolled away. And when she had arrived at the +Hall, she stood on the porch in the rain without a soul to speak to her. +Ah! this change was enough to turn the head of even a sensible girl.</p> + +<p>However, Nancy was much too affectionate by nature and tender of other +people’s feelings to be made haughty or vain by her schoolmates’ +kindness to her. It continued to be a wonder to her how a “mere nobody” +had managed to gain such popularity.</p> + +<p>And she was welcomed in Jennie’s home as though she really was one of +the family.</p> + +<p>Jennie’s home was a lovely, rambling old house, standing well back from +the High Street in its own grounds, and affording ample space for the +young folk to have fun in innumerable ways.</p> + +<p>There was a lake not far away; and Mr. Bruce owned a pair of ponies that +even the younger children could drive. There was a trip almost every day +to the swimming place; then there were picnics, and visiting back and +forth with other girls whom Jennie and her sisters knew. And nowhere did +Nancy hear a word about her not being “just as good” as her comrades.</p> + +<p>The mystery of her identity, however, was seldom buried very deep under +other thoughts. And Jennie retained her interest in the puzzle, too.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_238" id="pg_238">238</a></span>Nancy had written to Scorch O’Brien to arrange for a meeting; as the +red-headed youth seemed too bashful to come out to Jennie’s house, the +girls planned to meet him in the city. They got a most mysterious note +in reply:</p> + +<p class='ni mtr5'><span class="sc">“Dear Miss Nancy</span>:</p> + +<p>“You and your friend meet me at 307 Payne Street on Saturday +afternoon. You can whistle outside; I’ll hear you. Can’t see you at +Old Gordon’s office for fear of spies. Did you ever see the Gray +Man? He and Old G. has had a fight about you. It was a peach! They +says when thieves fall out honest folks gets what’s coming to them. +Mebbe you’ll get yours.</p> + +<p class='nm r' style='margin-right:4em;'>“Most respectfully yours,</p> +<p class='r mbr5' style='margin-right:0em;'><span class="sc">“Scorch O’Brien</span>.”</p> + +<p>Jennie’s big brother John, who had already taken some interest in +Nancy’s mystery, took the girls to town with him. His employer, who knew +Mr. Gordon, had never been able to get the lawyer to talk about Nancy +Nelson, although he had started the subject with him several times.</p> + +<p>The girls did a little shopping for themselves, and some errands for +Mrs. Bruce, and then had a nice luncheon. It was past noon then and they +were sure that Scorch would be at home—for it was evidently his home +address that he had given to them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_239" id="pg_239">239</a></span>They asked a policeman how to find Payne Street and he kindly put them +on a car which took the two girls to the corner of that thoroughfare. It +was a street of small cottages, and empty lots, and goats, and many, +many dirty-faced children. Some of these last ran after Nancy and Jennie +and made faces at them as they sought out Number 307.</p> + +<p>“But as long as the goats don’t run after us and make faces, I don’t +care,” declared Jennie.</p> + +<p>Just then one nanny looked over a fence and said “Ba-a-a-a!” in a very +loud tone, and Jennie almost jumped into the middle of the street.</p> + +<p>“Come out! Come on!” she cried, urging her friend onward. “Goats are +always butting in.”</p> + +<p>A derisive chorus of “ba’s” followed them as they hurried along the +street.</p> + +<p>“There’s 307!” cried Nancy, pointing.</p> + +<p>The cottage in question was a rather neater-looking place than its +neighbors. There was a fence which really was strong enough, and had +pickets enough (if some of them <i>were</i> barrel-staves) to keep wandering +goats out of the yard. There was a garden at the back, and a bit of +grass in front, with a path bordered by half bricks painted with +whitewash a dazzling white.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_240" id="pg_240">240</a></span>The porch and steps were scrubbed clean, too; it might have been a sign +of Mrs. O’Brien’s trade, that porch.</p> + +<p>There were ducks, and geese, and poultry, too; but all fenced off with +wire from the front and from the garden. And the girls heard the hungry +grunting of a pig in its sty.</p> + +<p>There was a good deal of noise within the house, too. The girls could +hear childish voices in a great hullabaloo, a good-natured, but broadly +Irish voice chiming in with them, and likewise a scampering across the +floor which must have made the cottage rock again.</p> + +<p>“He’d never hear us whistle in the world!” giggled Jennie.</p> + +<p>“How funny we’d look standing here on the street and whistling, anyway!” +replied Nancy.</p> + +<p>“And then, <i>I</i> never could whistle,” confessed Jennie. “Somehow I can’t +get my lips to pucker right.”</p> + +<p>“Why! neither can I!” cried Nancy. “I didn’t think of that. We couldn’t +signal to Scorch by whistling, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Unless we borrowed a policeman’s whistle—or a postman’s,” said Jennie. +“What’ll we do?”</p> + +<p>“Come on and knock,” said Nancy. “We can make them hear somehow.”</p> + +<p>Which proved to be true. The girls made <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_241" id="pg_241">241</a></span>those inside hear at their +first summons. Silence fell upon the O’Brien cottage on the instant.</p> + +<p>There might have been some whisperings and soft commands; but then, in a +moment, a good-looking, black-haired girl, in a clean apron and with her +sleeves rolled up over her dimpled elbows, opened the front door.</p> + +<p>“You’re Norah O’Brien, I know,” said Nancy, putting out her hand.</p> + +<p>“You’re a good guesser, Miss,” returned the girl, who might have been +sixteen or seventeen. “And who might you be—and the other pretty lady?”</p> + +<p>“Why—didn’t Scorch tell you——”</p> + +<p>“Sarsfield, do ye mane?” asked Norah, her eyes twinkling.</p> + +<p>“I mean Scorch O’Brien,” declared Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Patrick Sarsfield is his name,” declared Scorch’s big sister. “Here! P. +Sarsfield O’Brien!” she shouted into the house. “It’s coompany ye’ve +got.”</p> + +<p>“Gee!” drawled the voice of the red-haired youth. “What did they come to +the door for?” and he made his appearance, looking very sheepish.</p> + +<p>“How could you expect us to whistle, Scorch?” demanded Nancy, while +Jennie bubbled over with laughter. “Girls can’t whistle.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_242" id="pg_242">242</a></span>“I never thought,” admitted Scorch, shaking hands awkwardly with both +visitors.</p> + +<p>“Bring thim inter the house, P. Sarsfield,” said Norah. “Have ye no +manners?”</p> + +<p>“There’s too many kids,” said the tousled Scorch, who had evidently been +playing with the younger children, too.</p> + +<p>“I’ll shoo ’em out into the yard,” promised Norah, and went away upon +this errand while Scorch ushered his visitors into the tiny front room, +which was evidently kept shut up save when the priest came, or some +special visitor.</p> + +<p>The girls sat down on the stiffly-placed chairs and looked about at the +portraits of Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien when they were first married—he very +straight and stern-looking in his policeman’s uniform, with very yellow +buttons, and Mrs. O’Brien with very red cheeks and much yellow jewelry +painted into the picture by the artist at the bride’s request. Mrs. +O’Brien had never owned any trinket of more value than her wedding ring!</p> + +<p>There was a wreath of everlastings in a glass case, which had lain on +the good man’s coffin. And there was a framed “In Memoriam” card on the +wall, together with a “Rock of Ages” worked on cardboard in red worsted +by Norah herself, no doubt.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_243" id="pg_243">243</a></span>Everything was as clean as could be, however. And Nancy, on her part, +was much more interested in the change she saw in Scorch, than in +anything else.</p> + +<p>“Why, Scorch! how you’ve grown!” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“That’s in spite of the way they overwork me at the office,” he replied, +grinning.</p> + +<p>“And you’ve had that tooth put in!”</p> + +<p>“Yep. Ye see, missing that tooth, when I bit into anything it seemed +like I was tryin’ to make a sandwich look like a Swiss cheese. It +troubled my aesthetic taste. So I let the tooth carpenter build me +another.”</p> + +<p>“And your hair stays lots flatter than it did,” declared Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Yep. Sweet oil. It works all right.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, Scorch! You talk just as slangily as ever.”</p> + +<p>“But he writes a lot better than he did,” said Jennie, suddenly. “Did +you notice in his last letter?”</p> + +<p>“You’re practising, Scorch,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“I’m goin’ to night school, Miss Nancy,” admitted the boy, with a grin.</p> + +<p>“That’s a good boy!” exclaimed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Well, learning is all right—even if a feller’s goin’ to be a +detective,” declared Scorch, earnestly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_244" id="pg_244">244</a></span>“And I expect you’re learnin’ a lot yourself, Miss Nancy?”</p> + +<p>“Some,” returned his friend.</p> + +<p>“She’s at the top of her class,” Jennie declared, proudly. “Oh, she has +us all beaten, Scorch.”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” he agreed. “I knowed how ’twould be. There ain’t nobody going to +get the best of Miss Nancy.”</p> + +<p>“Unless it’s that horrid Mr. Gordon,” suggested Jennie, bringing the +conversation around to the subject uppermost in all their minds.</p> + +<p>“Ha!” exclaimed Scorch, looking mysterious at once, and hitching his +chair nearer to the girls. “Were you on to what I said in my letter?”</p> + +<p>“About the gray man? Yes!” cried Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Did you ever see him?” asked Scorch.</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know that I have,” said Nancy, slowly.</p> + +<p>“He ain’t been snooping around that school?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I haven’t noticed anybody like that.”</p> + +<p>“A big man all in gray. He’s some nobby dresser! I thought he was the +President—or Secretary of State at least—when he came into the office +and asked for Old Gordon. I takes him in at once.</p> + +<p>“Now, they knowed each other well, those two did. Old Gordon was +startled and he tried to heave up out of his chair. But you know how +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_245" id="pg_245">245</a></span><i>he</i> is,” added Scorch, with scorn. “Takes him ten minutes to work his +way out from between the arms when he wants to get up. Don’t know what +he <i>would</i> do if there was a fire any time.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Scorch!” admonished Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the boy, “he tries to heave up, and can’t, and sings out:</p> + +<p>“‘Why, Jim!’</p> + +<p>“‘Hello, Hen,’ says the man in gray.</p> + +<p>“I hadn’t shut the door—quite. Sometimes I don’t,” admitted the boy, +with a wink. “I hears the gray feller say:</p> + +<p>“‘I just got back from Clintondale, Hen. What did you send that girl up +there for, I want to know?’</p> + +<p>“‘What girl?’ asks Old Gordon.</p> + +<p>“‘Nancy Nelson,’ says the gray man</p> + +<p>“‘Sh!’ sputters Gordon. ‘Shut the door, Jim, if you’re here to talk +about <i>her</i>.’</p> + +<p>“But before the other feller shut the door I heard him say:</p> + +<p>“‘Wouldn’t no other school but Pinewood Hall do for <i>her</i>?’ and Old +Gordon snaps right back at him:</p> + +<p>“‘Nothing’s too good for her, Jim, and you know it.’</p> + +<p>“Well!” continued Scorch. “I could have <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_246" id="pg_246">246</a></span>bit off the doorknob; I was so +mad when they shut the door on me. I couldn’t hear another thing.</p> + +<p>“The gray man was in there a long time. When he come out he looked mad, +too. I didn’t hear Old Gordon’s buzzer for a long time, and so I slipped +down to his door and tried it.</p> + +<p>“When I peeked in, what do you think?” asked Scorch, mysteriously.</p> + +<p>“What was it?” gasped Nancy.</p> + +<p>“I never could guess!” exclaimed the eager Jennie.</p> + +<p>“The old man had his head down on the desk, and his shoulders was +heavin’ like he was cryin’. Now, what do you know about <i>that</i>?” +demanded the boy, with the air of one throwing a bomb.</p> + +<p>The girls were speechless with surprise.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_247" id="pg_247">247</a></span> +<a name="BACK_TO_SCHOOL_AGAIN_6838" id="BACK_TO_SCHOOL_AGAIN_6838"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>BACK TO SCHOOL AGAIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>“That’s the strangest thing I ever heard,” Jennie Bruce said, the first +to break the silence. “Do you really suppose he was crying, Scorch—or +was he laughing?”</p> + +<p>“Say!” returned the red-haired youth, “Old Gordon never laughed in his +life!”</p> + +<p>“But why should he cry?” asked Nancy, much disturbed.</p> + +<p>“Ask me an easier one,” answered Scorch. “It struck me all of a heap. I +backed out and waited for him to show up. When he went out to lunch he +looked no different from other times.”</p> + +<p>“And I don’t see that what you’ve told us is a bit of good!” exclaimed +Jennie, suddenly. “We don’t know who the gray man is.”</p> + +<p>“You ain’t never seen him, Miss Nancy?” asked the boy, anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Not that I know of,” replied the girl.</p> + +<p>“Well! I tried to find out who he was, and nobody around the office +seemed to know. He’d never been there before. But if he comes again <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_248" id="pg_248">248</a></span>I’m +goin’ to get on his trail,” declared Scorch, nodding emphatically.</p> + +<p>“How’ll you do that?” asked Jennie, quickly.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. But I’ll follow him out if I have to,” said Scorch. “And +he’ll have to be pretty smart to lose <i>me</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you do anything, Scorch, to get yourself into trouble,” +admonished Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Shucks!” ejaculated Scorch. “I won’t get into trouble. Don’t you fear. +But that gray man won’t get away from me again.”</p> + +<p>The girls remained a while longer, getting better acquainted with Norah, +and with the brood of younger O’Briens. There was the livestock in the +back yard to look over, too; and Norah made tea and cut a cake, doing +the honors of the house because Mrs. O’Brien was not at home.</p> + +<p>“She does her scrubbin’ at the offices Saturday afternoon instead of at +night. Then we have her home Saturday evenings,” said Norah, proudly. +“And Patrick Sarsfield does not go to school Saturday evenings.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, say!” ejaculated the red-haired boy. “Call me ‘Scorch.’ ‘Patrick +Sarsfield’ makes me feel top-heavy. I’d soon get round-shouldered +carrying that around.”</p> + +<p>John Bruce met the girls at the station, to which Scorch escorted them +in time for the afternoon <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_249" id="pg_249">249</a></span>train. Nancy shook hands with her champion +warmly before they separated.</p> + +<p>“You be a good boy and keep out of trouble,” she advised him. “Maybe Mr. +Gordon isn’t as bad as—as you think. He never refuses me anything, and +I feel ashamed to doubt him so.”</p> + +<p>“Say! what did he ever give you but money?” demanded Scorch.</p> + +<p>“But that, you once told me,” said Nancy, laughing, “was about the best +thing in the world.”</p> + +<p>“It’s good to have, just the same,” quoth Scorch. “But perhaps havin’ +folks is better. And if Old Gordon has hidden you away from your folks, +Miss Nancy, he’d oughter be made to give you up to them.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a <i>new</i> idea, Scorch,” returned Nancy, reflectively. “Do you +suppose that I might have been stolen from my people for some reason?”</p> + +<p>“Maybe you were stolen by Gypsies!” cried Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Old Gordon doesn’t look like a Gypsy,” said Scorch, slowly, “nor yet +the gray man I was telling you about.”</p> + +<p>“Come on and get aboard,” said John Bruce, smiling. “I wouldn’t worry my +head about such things, if I were you, Nancy. We all like you quite as +well as we should if you had a family as big as the Bruces’.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_250" id="pg_250">250</a></span>That was not the only time the girls saw Scorch O’Brien that summer; +and on one occasion the entire O’Brien family—from the fat, ruddy-faced +Mother O’Brien, down to Aloysius Adolphus O’Brien, the baby—came clear +out to Hollyburg on the train, where they were met by the Bruces’ man, +and Nancy and Jennie, with a two-horse beach-wagon and transported to +the lake for a picnic.</p> + +<p>But Scorch—greatly to his disappointment—had nothing of moment to +communicate to Nancy on that occasion, or on any other that summer. The +“gray man” did not again appear at the offices and all he could say was +that Mr. Gordon went on in his usual way.</p> + +<p>“He lives in an old-fashioned hotel over on the West Side,” said Scorch, +“and I’ve been in his rooms two or three times. But it don’t look to me +as though he could hide the papers there anywhere.”</p> + +<p>“Hide what papers?” demanded Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Why, there’s always papers hidden away that would tell the heiress all +she wants to know—if she could get at ’em,” declared Scorch, nodding.</p> + +<p>“You ridiculous boy! You’ve got your head full of paper-covered story +books!” exclaimed Nancy. “Did you ever hear his like, Jennie?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_251" id="pg_251">251</a></span>“Maybe he’s right, just the same,” observed her chum, slowly. “Mr. +Gordon isn’t likely to tell you anything himself. If you ever find out +about your folks it will be in some such way as Scorch says.”</p> + +<p>Bye and bye it was time to go back to Pinewood Hall again. Nancy had +remained the whole summer with the Bruces, and she had enjoyed every day +of that time. Yet she was glad, too, to go back to her studies.</p> + +<p>“And so would <i>I</i> be, if I had a chance of standing anywhere near you in +classes,” agreed Jennie. “But I’m always falling down just when I think +I’m perfect in a recitation.”</p> + +<p>But there was much more dignity in the bearing of both Nancy and Jennie +when they approached Pinewood Hall on this occasion. They were +full-fledged sophomores, and they could not help looking down with +amused tolerance on the “greenies” who were timidly coming to the school +for the first time.</p> + +<p>It was “great,” as Jennie confessed, to be able to tell “those children” +where to go, and what to do, and to order them about, as was the soph. +privilege.</p> + +<p>But when Nancy found that certain of her class were hazing the +new-comers in a serious way, she took the class to task for it. She +called a <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_252" id="pg_252">252</a></span>meeting and reminded them that it would displease both the new +captains of the school—Mary Miggs on the West Side and Polly Hyams on +the East—as well as Madame Schakael herself, if hazing of the new girls +continued.</p> + +<p>“Let’s do unto others as we would have been glad to have others do to us +when we came a year ago,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Well, the sophs. drilled us, all right!” cried Jennie, who was a bit +obstreperous on this point, for she liked to play practical jokes on the +younger girls.</p> + +<p>“And so,” said Nancy, gravely, “we know how mean it was of them. This +class wants to have a better record than the class above it—eh?”</p> + +<p>“Talk for yourself, Miss Nancy!” snapped Cora Rathmore. “You’re taking +too much upon yourself.”</p> + +<p>“As usual, too,” agreed Grace Montgomery, with scorn. “Just because you +happen to be class president——”</p> + +<p>“And quite by a fluke,” interjected Cora.</p> + +<p>“You needn’t suppose that you can boss us in every single particular. If +I want to make one of these greenies ‘fag’ for me, I’m going to do it.”</p> + +<p>“We have always agreed to be governed by the majority, you know,” +observed Nancy, softly. <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_253" id="pg_253">253</a></span>“Let us put it to vote. If the bulk of the +class believe it better and kinder to help these younger girls instead +of making them miserable for the first few weeks they are at Pinewood, +let us all agree to be governed accordingly.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s fair,” said Jennie Bruce.</p> + +<p>“Oh, she knows she’s got the majority with her,” snapped Cora, shrugging +her shoulders. “The minority have no rights at all in this class.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad—or would be so—if I believed I was so popular,” Nancy said, +with some warmth. “But I believe with the majority of us girls my +suggestion is popular. It isn’t <i>I</i>.”</p> + +<p>Then she put the question and the Montgomeryites were in a very small +minority.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, outside of class matters, Grace Montgomery was still +something of a leader. She and Cora paid more attention to dress than +other girls in the school. They spent more money on “orgies,” too, and +had hampers arrive from home more frequently. They were even more +popular among the juniors than they were in their own class.</p> + +<p>And soon a certain number of the new girls at Pinewood Hall began to ape +the manners and quote the sayings of Grace Montgomery. The present class +of seniors paid little attention to Grace and her growing clique; but +Nancy and <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_254" id="pg_254">254</a></span>Jennie often spoke of the possibility of her having a large +following before she was through her senior year.</p> + +<p>“Unless she does something for which to be shown up before them all, the +time will come when Grace Montgomery will divide the school. She’ll +never have much influence in her own class,” said Jennie; “but in the +school as a whole she will be a power if she can.”</p> + +<p>In athletics that fall, however, neither Grace nor Cora cut much of a +figure. Cora tried hard for the school crew, but Miss Etching turned her +back to the second boat for another year.</p> + +<p>To make Cora all the angrier, Nancy “made” Number 6 in the eight-oared +shell. It was something for the sophomore class as a whole to be proud +of; for it was seldom that one of their number got into the “varsity” +crew.</p> + +<p>But Cora did all she could to belittle Nancy’s triumph. She stood on the +landing and sneered at the work of the crew, and especially at “Number +6” until one evening Jennie Bruce came up behind her, caught her by both +elbows, and thrust her suddenly toward the edge of the float.</p> + +<p>“Ouch! Don’t! You mean little thing!” cried Cora.</p> + +<p>“Mean?” said Jennie, sharply. “If I was as mean as you are, Cora +Rathmore, I’d be afraid to <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_255" id="pg_255">255</a></span>go to sleep without a light in the room. +Just think of being left alone in the dark with anybody as mean as <i>you</i> +are!”</p> + +<p>“Think you’re smart! Ouch! Let go of me!”</p> + +<p>“You quit ragging Nance Nelson, or I’ll pitch you right into the +river—now you see if I don’t!” threatened Jennie.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell Miss Etching on you!” threatened Cora, still struggling.</p> + +<p>“Go ahead. And I’ll tell her the things you’ve said down here every time +the school crew is out. You have a funny kind of loyalty; haven’t you, +Cora? Pah!”</p> + +<p>“Mind your own business!” snapped Cora, but rubbing her elbows where +Jennie had held them like a vise.</p> + +<p>She was a little afraid of Jennie’s muscles, as well as of her sharp +tongue. Jennie was not a heavy girl, but she was wiry and strong.</p> + +<p>This fall rowing was a particular fad of the Pinewood Hall girls. In the +long evenings after dinner all but the freshman class were allowed to go +out on the river until Mr. Pease blew the big horn at the boathouse to +call the stragglers in.</p> + +<p>Some of the girls owned their own boats, too, for of course they could +not use the racing boats except in practice hours. Others, who did not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_256" id="pg_256">256</a></span>own boats, hired them of a boatman below the estate, near the railroad +bridge.</p> + +<p>Jennie and Nancy pooled their pocket money and bought a light skiff—a +flat-bottomed affair which was just the thing for them to paddle about +in shallow water, and was “seaworthy.” No ordinary amount of rocking +could turn the skiff over.</p> + +<p>They often pulled into the still pools, or meadow ponds, opening into +the river, and plucked water-lilies. Nancy never did this without +remembering her adventures before she came to Pinewood Hall—the +occasion when she had helped save Bob Endress from drowning.</p> + +<p>Bob was now a lordly senior at Dr. Dudley’s Academy. Nancy had only seen +him flashing past the girls’ boathouse in the Academy eight. Bob was +stroke of his school’s first crew. Nancy often wondered if he had +learned to swim yet.</p> + +<p>One evening when the two chums from Number 30, West Side (they had held +their old room for another term, as sophs often did at Pinewood Hall), +arrived at the little dock where the private boats were kept, they saw +that their own skiff was in the water.</p> + +<p>“Hullo!” exclaimed Jennie. “Some of the girls have been using the +<i>Beauty</i>. What do you know about that?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_257" id="pg_257">257</a></span>They began to run. One girl popped up out of the boat, saw them, and +immediately climbed out upon the dock. It was Grace Montgomery.</p> + +<p>“Well, will you look who’s here!” ejaculated Jennie. “Who invited <i>you</i> +to play in our yard, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, never mind, Jennie!” begged Nancy, pulling at her chum’s sweater.</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to have anybody take our boat without permission. Who is +that other one? Why, it’s Cora, of course! Get out of that!” commanded +Jennie, much more harshly than Nancy had ever heard her speak before.</p> + +<p>“Dear me! I didn’t know it was <i>your</i> boat, Jennie,” said Grace, airily.</p> + +<p>“Nor I,” chimed in Cora. “You can be sure I wouldn’t have got into the +sloppy old thing, if I had.”</p> + +<p>“Go ’long, chile!” spoke Jennie, scornfully. “It wouldn’t matter to you +whose boat it was. Your appreciation of personal property is warped.”</p> + +<p>“Nasty thing!” snapped Cora.</p> + +<p>“Just so,” returned Jennie. “Come on, Nance. We’ll get a padlock for our +boat-chain to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>When they had pushed off and were out of hearing of the girls on the +dock, Nancy said, admonishingly:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_258" id="pg_258">258</a></span>“Why say things to stir them up? It does no good.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, fudge! What does it matter? Do you suppose that I care if Grace or +Cora ‘have a mad on’ at me? Much!” and Jennie snapped her fingers.</p> + +<p>They were pulling out into the river. The sun was already below the +hills; but the light was lingering long in the sky and on the water. The +chums had an objective point in a little cove across the river, where +splendid lilies grew.</p> + +<p>The evening boat from Clintondale down the river came in sight and the +girls rested on their oars to let it pass. The little waves the small +steamer threw off rocked their skiff gently.</p> + +<p>“Goodness!” exclaimed Jennie, suddenly. “This skiff is all wet. My feet +are soaked.”</p> + +<p>“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Nancy. “The water is over <i>my</i> shoes, +too.”</p> + +<p>“I bet those girls slopped some into the boat when they launched her,” +declared Jennie, angrily.</p> + +<p>“Wish we had a bailer. Why, Jennie! the boat’s leaking!”</p> + +<p>But Jennie had already found that out. And she found <i>where</i> it was +leaking.</p> + +<p>“The plug’s been pulled, Nance!” she exclaimed. “See that bunch of rags +floating? That’s what Cora Rathmore stuffed into the hole <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_259" id="pg_259">259</a></span>when she +pulled out the plug. She knew the water would soon work them out.”</p> + +<p>“But where’s the plug?” asked Nancy.</p> + +<p>“They took it away with them. It’s a mean trick!” gasped her chum. “Why, +Nancy! The water is gaining fast. Here we are in the middle of the river +and the skiff will sink under us before we can row to shore!”</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_260" id="pg_260">260</a></span> +<a name="THE_THANKSGIVING_MASQUE_7172" id="THE_THANKSGIVING_MASQUE_7172"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>THE THANKSGIVING MASQUE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Of course, both Jennie and Nancy could swim; but swimming with one’s +clothes on, from the middle of Clinton River to the shore, would be no +small feat.</p> + +<p>And there wasn’t time to throw off much of their clothing, for the skiff +was sinking under them. Once the bunch of rags had been forced out of +the hole where the plug had been, the water spurted in like a miniature +fountain.</p> + +<p>The boat began to swing in the current, too. They had both drawn their +oars inboard and the craft drifted at the mercy of the river.</p> + +<p>“What <i>shall</i> we do?” gasped Jennie, again. “We’re go-ing-right-do-own!”</p> + +<p>“Not yet!” cried her chum, tearing off the little coat she wore.</p> + +<p>In a moment Nancy doubled up the sleeve and thrust it into the hole in +the bottom of the boat. She forced it in tightly, and as it became wet +and more plastic, she rammed it home hard.</p> + +<p>“But that won’t last long,” objected Jennie.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_261" id="pg_261">261</a></span>“The water’ll force it out again. And what will we do with the water +that is already in here?”</p> + +<p>Indeed, the girls were barely out of the wash of the water, and their +feet and ankles were soaking wet.</p> + +<p>They dared not move suddenly, either; the gunwales of the boat were so +low that, if it pitched at all, the river would flow over the sides.</p> + +<p>“Why! it will sink any minute and leave us sitting here in the water!” +groaned Jennie, again.</p> + +<p>“Take off one of your shoes—careful, now,” commanded Nancy. “We can +bail with them,” putting into practice her own advice.</p> + +<p>They managed each to remove one of the low, rubber-soled shoes they +wore. But these took up so small an amount of water, although they +bailed vigorously, that Jennie began to chuckle:</p> + +<p>“Might as well try to dip the sea out with a pail, Nance! What a +ridiculous position we’re in!”</p> + +<p>But it was really more serious than that. It was fast growing dark, and +no matter how loudly they shouted, their voices would not reach to the +landing. The wind was against them.</p> + +<p>On the other side of Clinton River, opposite the scene of their +accident, were open fields and woods. Few people lived within sight; +indeed, only two twinkling lights from house windows could they <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_262" id="pg_262">262</a></span>now see +on that side, and both of those were far away.</p> + +<p>“Do you suppose we could slip overboard without swamping the boat, and +so lighten it?” demanded Nancy.</p> + +<p>“What good would that do?”</p> + +<p>“Then it wouldn’t sink and we could cling to the gunwales. It would keep +us afloat.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that plug’s come out!” gasped Jennie.</p> + +<p>It had. Nancy stooped and forced the cloth into the hole again; but her +motion rocked the boat dangerously. A ripple came along and lapped right +in, and the girls were almost waist deep!</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me!” wailed Jennie. “We might just as well be drowned as be +like this. We <i>are</i> drowned from our waists down.”</p> + +<p>“Nev—er—say—die!” gasped Nancy, struggling with the jacket-sleeve to +make it stay in the hole.</p> + +<p>“We’ve got to get out!” cried Jennie. “This is where we get off—even if +it <i>is</i> a wet landing. If we’re out of the boat, it will only sink so +that the gunwales are level with the water. Isn’t that so?”</p> + +<p>“I believe so,” admitted Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Then out we go,” said Jennie, working her way toward the bow.</p> + +<p>“What you going to do?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_263" id="pg_263">263</a></span>“Lighten the boat. You slide out over the stern. We’ve got to do it, +Nance.”</p> + +<p>“I guess that’s so,” admitted her chum. “Do be careful, Jennie. And if +the boat <i>does</i> sink, don’t lose your head. We can swim.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I can’t swim to shore in all these clothes. I wish I had loosened +my skirts at the start. Oh, dear!”</p> + +<p>The daylight had drifted out of the sky and there was no moon. The stars +shone palely and it seemed as though a mist had suddenly been drawn over +the surface of the river.</p> + +<p>The lights of the steamboat had long since disappeared around the bend. +There didn’t seem to be another pleasure boat on the river this evening. +And yet there must have been a lot of the girls out, somewhere.</p> + +<p>Jennie and Nancy got their feet over the ends of the boat and slid +carefully down into the water. Their skirts buoyed them up a bit; but +they knew that once the garments were saturated, they would bear them +down instead.</p> + +<p>“Are—are you all—all right, Nance?” gasped Jennie, from the bow, as +the water rose about her. “Oh, oh! Isn’t it wet?”</p> + +<p>“Cling to the boat, Jen!” begged Nancy, from the stern. “I—I don’t +believe it will sink.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_264" id="pg_264">264</a></span>And even as she spoke the skiff, lurching first one side and then the +other, sank slowly down into the depths of the river.</p> + +<p>Both girls screamed. They came together with a shock and clung to each +other in something like panic. And, so struggling, both dipped under +water for a moment.</p> + +<p>But when they came up, Nancy held her chum off, and cried:</p> + +<p>“Don’t do that again, Jennie! If you have to dip, hold your nose. Let’s +not lose our heads about this. We’ve got to swim for it!”</p> + +<p>“Swim!” gasped Jennie Bruce. “I feel as if there was a ton of lead +around my legs. I can’t kick any more than the mule could with his legs +tied!”</p> + +<p>“Get rid of the skirts,” said Nancy, struggling to unfasten her own. +“You can do it—if you try. There! mine’s gone.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my—blub! blub! blub!” came from poor Jennie, as she went under.</p> + +<p>Nancy reached and caught her by the hair. Both their caps had floated +away. She dragged her chum to the surface and held her until she got her +breath again.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Nancy was trying to undo the fastenings of Jennie’s clothes; +and she succeeded after a time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_265" id="pg_265">265</a></span>“Oh, dear, me!” she gasped. “I never wished to be a boy so much +before.”</p> + +<p>“Well, even a boy would find himself somewhat mussed up here in the +middle of the river,” sobbed Jennie.</p> + +<p>“But he’d have a knife in his pocket, and could cut his clothing off,” +returned Nancy, with some vigor.</p> + +<p>In these few moments that they had been out of the boat the current, of +course, had carried them down stream. But now, partially relieved of +their clinging garments, they wanted to strike out for shore. But which +shore?</p> + +<p>“I believe we’re nearer the westerly side,” said Jennie.</p> + +<p>“If we swim over there we won’t know where to go to dry off and get +clothes. And there’ll be an awful time at the school,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>Just then the horn at the boathouse sounded mournfully across the water. +It was first call for the scattered boats to return—half-past eight. If +all the girls were not in by nine they had to explain the reason to Miss +Etching.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, shall it be the boathouse?” queried Jennie.</p> + +<p>“We’ve drifted a long way below it. See! there’s the bend,” said Nancy, +rising to look. “Let’s make for the nearest point on that side.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_266" id="pg_266">266</a></span>“Come on, then!” said Jennie, and side by side, but heavily, the two +girls struck out.</p> + +<p>Neither was quite sure that she could swim that far under the present +conditions. Yet they were too plucky to say so to each other.</p> + +<p>For at least five minutes they plugged away and then Nancy, rising up +again, uttered a startled exclamation.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” demanded Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Why! we’re <i>below</i> the point!”</p> + +<p>“The current’s taking us down stream!”</p> + +<p>“That’s it!”</p> + +<p>“Goodness me!” exclaimed Jennie. “We’ll land somewhere about at the +Academy, if we don’t look out.”</p> + +<p>At that instant they both heard the swish of oars, or a paddle. In +unison they raised their voices in a shout:</p> + +<p>“Help! This way!”</p> + +<p>They could not see the craft approaching, for the mist on the river had +been growing thicker and thicker, all this time. But there was an +answering cry:</p> + +<p>“I’m coming! Holler again!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s a man!” gasped Jennie.</p> + +<p>“It’s a boy!” declared Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Shout again!” cried the voice in the mist.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m going to be saved if I’m <i>not</i> dressed <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_267" id="pg_267">267</a></span>for company,” +declared Jennie, and she raised her voice again:</p> + +<p>“This way! We’re in the water!”</p> + +<p>“Coming!”</p> + +<p>Then into sight flashed a ghostly craft, which came straight for them.</p> + +<p>“Oh! it’s only a canoe!” wailed Jennie. “We can’t climb into a canoe.”</p> + +<p>“My goodness! It’s two girls!” ejaculated the person paddling the canoe.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Endress!” exclaimed Nancy, recognizing the boy from Dr. Dudley’s +Academy.</p> + +<p>“What?” shouted Bob Endress. “Is it Nancy Nelson?”</p> + +<p>“And Jennie Bruce. We lost our boat. It sank,” explained Nancy, +breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“Each of you grab the gunwale of my canoe. Easy, now!” admonished Bob.</p> + +<p>They did so, one on either side, astern.</p> + +<p>“Now I can paddle you to shore. Just let your bodies float right out. +It’s lucky I came along. The current’s so strong around this bend.”</p> + +<p>“I never saw a boy so welcome before!” gasped Jennie, getting back her +courage immediately.</p> + +<p>“And now I can return your compliment, Nancy,” said Bob, laughing. “You +saved me from drowning, and if you hang on long enough I’ll manage to +save you, I guess.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_268" id="pg_268">268</a></span>He could not paddle the canoe very swiftly with the weight of the two +girls dragging it down; but in ten minutes they were in shore and knew +that they were safe.</p> + +<p>“We could wade in,” said Nancy, gasping a little for breath.</p> + +<p>“Wait,” commanded the boy. “Hadn’t I better take you right up to the +landing?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, mercy! no!” cried Jennie. “We want to run right home across the +fields. The back door won’t be locked.”</p> + +<p>“We’d better go to the gym. first and get skirts,” said Nancy, the +practical. “Maybe we can slip in then without anybody being the wiser.”</p> + +<p>“How under the sun did you manage to sink that skiff of yours?” Bob +demanded, showing thereby that he knew more about Nancy and her chum +than Nancy had supposed.</p> + +<p>“The plug came out,” said Nancy, shortly.</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you put it back?”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t an accident!” exclaimed Jennie. “One of the girls drew the +plug and just stuffed the hole with rags. We didn’t know it. Of course, +the water forced the rags out when we got half-way across the river.”</p> + +<p>“Why, that was criminal!” cried Bob, angrily. “That was no joke.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_269" id="pg_269">269</a></span>“Well, we didn’t laugh ourselves to death about it,” agreed Jennie.</p> + +<p>“What girl did it?”</p> + +<p>“I’d hate to tell you,” snapped Jennie. “There were two of them in the +trick, I’m sure. But I certainly will pay them off!”</p> + +<p>“They ought to be punished. You might have been drowned,” declared Bob.</p> + +<p>But Nancy said nothing. She did not propose to discuss Grace +Montgomery’s shortcomings with her cousin.</p> + +<p>The two girls got ashore in the semi-darkness, and thanked their rescuer +again.</p> + +<p>“I’ll ask after you to-morrow over the ’phone,” declared Bob. “I hope +you won’t get cold.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, goodness me! don’t ask,” cried Jennie. “Then we will have to +explain the whole business. And I don’t want to go before the Madame.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right, Jennie,” agreed her chum. “Please don’t ask after us, Mr. +Endress.”</p> + +<p>“Then let me know how you get along through Grace. I see her a lot,” +said Bob. “But you girls are never with her.”</p> + +<p>“Aw—well,” drawled Jennie, coming to Nancy’s rescue. “You know, we +girls go in bunches. Nancy and I chum together, and it’s a close +corporation. We don’t often go about with other girls.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_270" id="pg_270">270</a></span>Then they said “Good-night!” and ran off through the bushes. Their wet +garments hampered them somewhat in running; but they came at last +breathless to the gym. and Samuel had not yet locked up for the night.</p> + +<p>So they got into gym. togs—both blouses and skirts,—and managed to +enter the Hall by the rear door of their wing and get up to Number 30 +without being caught by any teacher, or the Side captain.</p> + +<p>The wet clothes were flung out of the window and, very early in the +morning, Nancy arose, slipped out of the house, and carried the garments +to the drying yard.</p> + +<p>So they got over this adventure without the teachers being the wiser. +There was a hue and cry about the lost skiff, however.</p> + +<p>“What are we going to say?” demanded Jennie, of her chum. “You won’t let +me go at Grace and Cora and make ’em pay for it. What’ll we do?”</p> + +<p>“Let folks think the skiff floated away from the landing. What do we +care if they say we didn’t tie it?” returned Nancy. “It’s our loss; +isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“But those girls ought to be made to pay for the skiff.”</p> + +<p>“How would you make them pay? Cora never <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_271" id="pg_271">271</a></span>has any money, anyway,” said +Nancy, remembering the sum that her ex-roommate already owed her from +the year before. “And they’d both deny touching the plug, anyway. We +can’t prove it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t care! I hate to have those girls get the best of us. I’ll +think up some trick by which we can pay them back.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, Jennie!” reproved Nancy. “You wouldn’t be mean just because +<i>they</i> are mean.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know but I would—if it wasn’t for you,” admitted her chum, +sighing.</p> + +<p>But in the end nothing was done about the skiff and the girls’ +adventure. The matter blew over. There was so much going on at Pinewood +Hall that fall, and the sophomores were so very busy, that the loss of +the boat soon ceased to be a topic of conversation—saving between the +owners and, possibly, the two other girls who knew all about the +incident.</p> + +<p>The seniors and juniors promised the school a very lively social season +this winter. And of course the sophs. were “in on it,” as Jennie said, +to a degree.</p> + +<p>As early as October the big girls got permission to plan a dance, with +the Academy boys invited, for Thanksgiving Eve. It was to be a +masquerade, too, and that gave the girls a delightful time <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_272" id="pg_272">272</a></span>choosing +costumes and—in some cases—making them at odd hours themselves.</p> + +<p>Those who would, might gather, twice a week, with Jessie Pease and learn +to sew. Nancy and Jennie were faithful to this “extra” and both made +their own costumes under Jessie’s sharp eye.</p> + +<p>Jennie was going to be dressed as an owl, and wear huge spectacles and +carry an open book.</p> + +<p>“I’d never look wise at any other time,” giggled the irrepressible. “So +I will do so now.”</p> + +<p>And in her fluffy gray and white garments, with the skirts drawn close +around her feet and slit only a little way so that she could barely walk +and dance, Jennie really <i>did</i> look too cute for anything.</p> + +<p>Nancy was costumed as a “drummer girl”—a brilliant uniform with knee +skirt, long boots, a little, round, “Tommy Atkins” cap with chin-strap, +and a little snare-drum at her hip that she really learned to beat.</p> + +<p>The big hall was cleared for dancing and decorated by the girls +themselves with the loot of the autumn woods. No more brilliant affair, +everybody declared, had been arranged since Pinewood Hall had become a +preparatory school.</p> + +<p>Dr. Dudley’s boys marched over at eight o’clock, every one of them +fancifully attired. Despite the fact that the tastes of the boys ran a +good deal to costumes denoting the Soldier of ’76 <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_273" id="pg_273">273</a></span>and Blackbeard, the +Pirate, the novelty and variety shown by the girls made the scene a +delightful one.</p> + +<p>Nancy Nelson and her mates of the sophomore class were not likely to be +wall-flowers this year, or to lack for partners. The former’s striking +costume marked her out, too, and after the grand march, she was sought +out by Bob Endress.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m afraid I don’t dance well enough, Mr. Endress,” the girl said +in a whisper, and blushing deeply.</p> + +<p>“You do everything well, I believe,” declared he. “Now, don’t disappoint +me. I’ve been trying ever since that night I found you and your chum in +the river, to get a talk with you. But you’re so shy.”</p> + +<p>“I—I’m always busy,” replied Nancy. “And—and you know the Madame is +very strict about us talking with any of you boys.”</p> + +<p>“Wow! we won’t bite you,” laughed Bob. “Besides, I meet Grace and Cora +Rathmore often. I tried to pump them about your accident; but they +declared they knew nothing about it. I guess you warned them not to +tell.”</p> + +<p>Nancy had nothing to say to this, but she could, not refuse to go on the +floor with Bob, although she saw Grace, dressed to represent a gaudy +tulip, glaring at them with blazing eyes from across the room.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_274" id="pg_274">274</a></span> +<a name="GETTING_ON_7590" id="GETTING_ON_7590"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<h3>GETTING ON</h3> +</div> + +<p>Jennie Bruce did not go home that Christmas. Instead, she remained at +Pinewood Hall with Nancy and was “coached” for the after-New Year exams. +So she was able to send home better reports for her first half-year’s +work than she had had before.</p> + +<p>Nancy took to study naturally; it was a “grind” for Jennie, and she was +frank to admit it.</p> + +<p>Nancy stuck to her books just as closely after Thanksgiving as she had +before; but as a sophomore she had more freedom than was usually granted +to the freshies. Therefore she was able, if she wished, to enter more +fully into the social gayeties of her classmates.</p> + +<p>And after the very successful masque on Thanksgiving Eve, she could not +escape Bob Endress altogether. He <i>was</i> a nice boy, and Nancy liked him. +Besides, there were two topics that drew the two together.</p> + +<p>Bob never got over talking about that August afternoon, that seemed so +long ago, when Nancy <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_275" id="pg_275">275</a></span>had helped to rescue him from the millrace. On the +other hand, Nancy was quite as grateful to him for saving her and Jennie +from the river.</p> + +<p>So, as well as might be, Bob and Nancy were very good friends. Bob would +be graduated in June, and at that same time Nancy would become a +full-fledged junior. Bob was going to Cornell; but that was not too far +away, as he often told her, for him to come back to Clintondale to see +both the girls and boys there.</p> + +<p>The only thing that troubled Nancy about this semi-intimacy between +herself and the Academy boy was the fact that Grace Montgomery was so +angry. She seemed to have an idea that the only person who had any right +to speak to her cousin was herself.</p> + +<p>Nancy was not so afraid to demand her rights as she once had been. If +Grace and Cora scowled at her, and belittled her behind her back, Nancy +had learned to go serenely on her way and pay no attention to them.</p> + +<p>What if they <i>did</i> say she was a “nobody?” Nancy knew that she was +popular enough with her classmates to win the high position of class +president twice in succession.</p> + +<p>“Let the little dogs howl and snarl,” Jennie said. “What do <i>we</i> care?”</p> + +<p>Yet the slur upon her identity could always <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_276" id="pg_276">276</a></span>hurt Nancy Nelson. Many a +night, after Jennie was sound asleep in her bed, Nancy bedewed her +pillow with tears.</p> + +<p>She reviewed at these times all the important incidents in her short +life.</p> + +<p>The few brief notes that Mr. Gordon had sent to her she treasured +carefully. She could not admire that peculiar gentleman; yet he was the +one link that seemed to bind her to her mysterious fortune.</p> + +<p>She received characteristic notes from Scorch O’Brien, now and then; +they got past the Madame’s desk unopened because they were addressed on +the typewriter, and purported to come from the office of Ambrose, Necker +& Boles.</p> + +<p>So the weeks sped. Spring came and then the budding summer, and again +the long line of white-robed girls walked the winding paths of Pinewood +Hall. The school year seemed to have fairly flown and Nancy and her +mates found themselves facing the fact that they were no longer +sophomores, but juniors!</p> + +<p>The Montgomery clique “got busy” again and tried to balk the election of +Nancy for a third time to the office of president of the class. To be +president in junior year was just as good as an appointment to the +captaincy of a Side in senior year.</p> + +<p>But Nancy had kept on the even tenor of her <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_277" id="pg_277">277</a></span>way. Her marks were just as +good as ever, and she stood at the head of most of her classes. The +teachers liked her and most of her own class considered her a bright and +particular star. So there was little chance of Grace and Cora +accomplishing their ends.</p> + +<p>The graduating exercises at Pinewood occurred the day before that same +ceremony at Dr. Dudley’s school. The older boys of the Academy were +usually invited guests at the exercises of the Hall; and some of the +first and second-class girls remained over a day after graduation to see +their friends in the boys’ school graduated.</p> + +<p>Nancy and Jennie received each an engraved card requesting “the honor of +their presence” at Clinton Academy, with Bob Endress’s name written with +a flourish in the lower corner.</p> + +<p>So, although Nancy was going home with Jennie for the summer once more, +they begged the Madame’s permission to remain over for the boys’ +graduation.</p> + +<p>And how angry Grace Montgomery was when she learned that Bob had invited +Nancy and her chum! Bob had stood well in his class—was quite the cock +of the walk, indeed—and Grace wanted to show him off to the older girls +as her especial property. She worked the cousinly relationship to the +limit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_278" id="pg_278">278</a></span>And after the exercises, when Bob came down from the platform +particularly to lead Nancy and Jennie to his parents and introduce them, +Grace and Cora went away in anything but a sweet frame of mind.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Endress spoke very kindly to Nancy. Bob, it seemed, had +often spoken of the girl whose quick wit had saved him from the millrace +almost two years before.</p> + +<p>“And you are in Grace Montgomery’s class?” observed Mrs. Endress. “It is +odd we have never heard Grace speak of you, Nancy. And where will you +spend your summer?”</p> + +<p>Nancy told her how kind the Bruces were to invite her for the long +vacation.</p> + +<p>“I hope we shall see you both,” said Mrs. Endress, nodding kindly to +Jennie, too, “before fall. We are not so very far from Holleyburg, you +know. Ah! here come Grace and the Senator.”</p> + +<p>Nancy and her chum fell back. A tall man dressed in a gray frock coat +and broad-brimmed hat—the garments so often affected by the Western +politician—was pacing slowly up the aisle with Grace and Cora.</p> + +<p>He was in gray all over, from hat to spats, save that his tie had a +crimson spot in it—a very beautiful ruby pin.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_279" id="pg_279">279</a></span>“My goodness me, Nance! The Man in Gray!” whispered Jennie, chuckling.</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” gasped Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Why, you remember the man Scorch told us of?”</p> + +<p>“What man?”</p> + +<p>“The man in gray who came to see your guardian, Mr. Gordon?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Well,” and Nancy recovered her composure. “I guess Grace +Montgomery’s father has nothing to do with <i>me</i>. But I have seen him +before.”</p> + +<p>“You have?” returned Jennie, in turn surprised.</p> + +<p>“Yes. Last year just about this time. He came to the Hall to see Grace. +I wonder——”</p> + +<p>She did not finish. She wondered if the Senator would remember her. He +did. But to Nancy’s confusion he scowled at her as he passed, and did +not speak.</p> + +<p>“My!” murmured Jennie in her chum’s ear. “He’s just as unpleasant as his +daughter; isn’t he? I guess Grace comes by <i>her</i> mean disposition +honestly enough!”</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_280" id="pg_280">280</a></span> +<a name="MR_GORDON_AGAIN_7750" id="MR_GORDON_AGAIN_7750"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<h3>MR. GORDON AGAIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Once that summer Nancy plucked up courage to go in to Cincinnati from +Jennie’s home, and called upon Mr. Gordon. She did not tell him to +expect her, but bearded the lion as she had once before.</p> + +<p>Jennie went with her, of course; only she remained waiting in a tea-room +near the big office building where the lion had his lair. Even Scorch +was amazed to see Nancy Nelson, dressed in her best and outwardly +composed, walk into the outer office of Ambrose, Necker & Boles.</p> + +<p>“Such a shock!” gasped Scorch, pretending to faint away in his chair +beside the gate in the railing. “And, say! Miss Nancy, how tall you’re +getting!”</p> + +<p>“So are you, Scorch,” she told him, holding out her hand.</p> + +<p>“And good-looking—My eye!”</p> + +<p>“Your hair is a whole shade darker, Scorch.”</p> + +<p>“You couldn’t say nothing handsomer, Miss—not if you tried for a week,” +declared the office boy, shaking hands vigorously. “What’s turned <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_281" id="pg_281">281</a></span>up? +Are you going to crack the whip over Old Gordon?”</p> + +<p>“How you talk, Scorch! You mustn’t be so disrespectful. And why should I +crack any whip over Mr. Gordon?”</p> + +<p>“You will when you get the best of him—eh?”</p> + +<p>“I certainly shall not. He—he’s been very kind to me, as far as I +know.”</p> + +<p>“Go in and see if he’s kind now,” grinned the red-haired one.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, Scorch! You announce me.”</p> + +<p>“Yah! you’re too easy on him,” growled Scorch, and went off to do as he +was bid. When he came back he didn’t look very pleasant.</p> + +<p>“He says you can come in,” snapped Scorch.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” asked Nancy, a little fearfully.</p> + +<p>“He acts like a bear with a sore head trying to open a honey tree. He’ll +eat you alive, Miss Nancy.”</p> + +<p>“All right. The banquet might as well begin right now,” returned the +girl, bound not to show how shaky she really was.</p> + +<p>So she walked directly to Mr. Gordon’s door, knocked lightly, and +without waiting for any encouragement, walked in upon the big man in the +armchair before the flat table.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_282" id="pg_282">282</a></span>Again he was silent, but Nancy knew that he was looking at her in the +mirror. Nancy was very glad, for a moment, that she was looking her +best. She flushed a little, took another step forward, and said:</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Mr. Gordon?”</p> + +<p>“What do you want now?” demanded the lawyer, ungraciously.</p> + +<p>“I want you to see me and tell me if you are satisfied with my progress, +sir,” she said, boldly, as she had intended.</p> + +<p>“Humph! I receive reports from the woman who runs that school.”</p> + +<p>“But you don’t know how I look—how much I’ve grown.”</p> + +<p>“Come around here, then, and let’s look at you,” he growled, although he +had been staring at her, she knew, since the moment she entered the +office.</p> + +<p>His big face was quite as expressionless as it had been nearly two years +before when she first remembered having seen it. If the little eyes +showed any expression when she first entered it was now hidden.</p> + +<p>“You look like a well-grown girl—for your age,” he said, with some +hesitation. “What do you want?”</p> + +<p>“To know if you can tell me anything more <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_283" id="pg_283">283</a></span>about myself—or my +people—or what is to become of me when my schooling is done?”</p> + +<p>“I can tell you nothing,” he replied, his brows drawing together.</p> + +<p>“I have learned typewriting, and I am excellent in spelling, and Miss +Meader is teaching me stenography,” she said, simply. “If—if the money +should—should stop coming any time, I thought I would better know how +to go about supporting myself.”</p> + +<p>“Ha!” He stared at her then with some emotion which sent a quick wave of +color into his unhealthy cheek.</p> + +<p>“What’s that for?” he demanded, at last.</p> + +<p>“What is what for, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Your getting ready to earn your livelihood?”</p> + +<p>“You say you do not know anything about the source of my income. It may +stop any time.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Then wouldn’t it be necessary for me to go to work?”</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t want to take money from <i>me</i>, then?” he snapped.</p> + +<p>“Why, I—I—You say you’re not even my guardian. I’ve no reason to +expect anything from you if the money stops coming. Isn’t that so?”</p> + +<p>“Independent—eh?” he said, with a brief chuckle.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_284" id="pg_284">284</a></span>“I hope to be able to get along when I have to.”</p> + +<p>“<i>When</i> you have to?”</p> + +<p>“<i>If</i> I have to, then,” she said, nodding.</p> + +<p>“Well! Maybe you’re right. No knowing what might happen,” he said, as +though ruminating. “Say! Anybody ever talk to you about this money I +have to spend on you?”</p> + +<p>“No-o, sir. Only my chum and I talk about it,” said Nancy, slowly.</p> + +<p>“Curious, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” replied Nancy, slowly. “And yet, it is more than curiosity. +Suppose my—mother was alive—or, my father——”</p> + +<p>“Ha!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon passed a big hand over his big face. He smoothed out +something there—either a wry smile or a spasm of pain.</p> + +<p>“Suppose, instead, you had a bad-tempered step-mother, or a drunken +brute of an uncle, or a miser of a grandfather, or some other +evilly-conditioned relative. Wouldn’t you rather be as you are than to +know such relatives?”</p> + +<p>He looked at her sharply.</p> + +<p>“We-ell—yes—perhaps——”</p> + +<p>“Ha! you don’t know how well off you are,” grunted Mr. Gordon. “Well! +I’m busy. What more do you want?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_285" id="pg_285">285</a></span>“No—nothing, sir,” said Nancy, disappointedly.</p> + +<p>“Want some more money for your vacation? Those Bruce people must be very +fond of you to keep you so long for nothing.”</p> + +<p>“They are very kind.”</p> + +<p>“There is money here for you if you want it,” said the lawyer, +carelessly. “You want nothing?”</p> + +<p>“I—I’d like to see Miss Trigg again. She was kind to me—in her way.”</p> + +<p>“Who is Miss Trigg?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>Nancy explained. He reached into his pocket, selected some bills, and +gave her more money than she had ever had at one time before.</p> + +<p>“Go on back there to Malden and see your old teacher, if you like. Take +the Bruce girl with you. Now, good-bye. I’m busy.”</p> + +<p>He was just as brusk and as brief of speech as he had been before. Nancy +went away, again deeply disappointed. But she and Jennie went to Malden +that week and visited Miss Trigg at Higbee School. Miss Prentice was +with a party visiting the Yosemite; but poor Miss Trigg never got away +from the Endowment.</p> + +<p>The good, wooden, middle-aged woman was really glad to see the girl who +had spent so many tedious summer vacations in her care. She tried <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_286" id="pg_286">286</a></span>to be +tender and affectionate to Nancy; but the poor lady didn’t know how.</p> + +<p>The girls had a nice time about Malden, however. Nancy took her chum to +the millpond, where the water-lilies grew, and showed her where Bob +Endress had come so near being drowned in the millrace.</p> + +<p>Jennie grew very romantic over this place.</p> + +<p>“Just think, Nance! Suppose, years and years from now, after you’ve +finished at college, and Bob Endress has got through college, too, you +should come here to see Miss Trigg, and he should come here, too, and +you should meet right here walking in this path.</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t that be just like a storybook?”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, Jen!” exclaimed Nancy, laughing.</p> + +<p>But sometimes, after all, the story books are like real life. And if +Nancy had had fairy glasses that she might look ahead the “years and +years” Jennie had spoken of, how amazed she would have been to see two +figures—identical with her own and Bob’s—walking here in the twilight!</p> + +<p>But girls of the age of Nancy Nelson and Jennie Bruce are usually much +too hearty of appetite, and wholesome of being, to be romantic—for long +at a time, anyway.</p> + +<p>The chums were as wild as hares that summer. They ran free in the woods, +and went fishing with <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_287" id="pg_287">287</a></span>Jennie’s brothers, and “camped out” over night on +the edge of the pond, and learned all manner of trick swimming, +including the removal of some of their outer clothing in the water.</p> + +<p>“We’re not going to be caught again as we were there in Clinton River, +when our boat sank,” declared Nancy, and Jennie agreed.</p> + +<p>When they went back to Pinewood Hall they were as brown as Indians, and +as strong and wiry as wolves. Miss Etching complimented them on the good +the summer seemed to have done them.</p> + +<p>Now came the time when Nancy Nelson and her chum “went higher” in more +ways than one. They were full-fledged juniors, and they had to give up +old Number 30, West Side, which they both loved, to incoming freshies.</p> + +<p>They drew Number 83—a lovely room, much larger than their old one and +more sumptuously furnished. It had a double door, too, and the walls +were almost sound-proof.</p> + +<p>“What a lovely room to study in!” cried Nancy.</p> + +<p>“And a great one to hold ‘orgies’ in,” whispered Jennie, her eyes +twinkling.</p> + +<p>So they determined, a week after school opened, to have “a +house-warming.” Nancy had a good part of her spending money, given to +her by Mr. Gordon during vacation, left in her purse. They <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_288" id="pg_288">288</a></span>invited +twenty of their closest friends of the junior class and, as Jennie +expressed it, “just laid themselves out” for a fine spread.</p> + +<p>There was to be fudge, too, which Nancy had the knack of making. The +chums had a chafing dish hidden away, and this was brought forth and the +ingredients made ready, while Nancy hovered over the dish like a +gray-robed witch.</p> + +<p>“Do you know what Cora Rathmore said?” chattered one of the visitors.</p> + +<p>“Everything but her prayers!” declared Jennie, with sarcasm.</p> + +<p>“No, no! about this racket to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t know she knew we were going to have a house-warming,” said +Jennie, looking up quickly. “I hope not!”</p> + +<p>“She <i>does</i> know,” said another girl.</p> + +<p>“Then somebody must have told,” declared Nancy, warmly. “We tried to +keep it very quiet.”</p> + +<p>“And from Cora, too!” said Jennie, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>“Well! she said you were just too mean for anything when you did not ask +her—and she right on this corridor,” said the first speaker.</p> + +<p>“Well, wouldn’t that jar you?” commented Jennie Bruce.</p> + +<p>“And she said she hoped you’d get caught,” pursued the other girl.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_289" id="pg_289">289</a></span>“Wow, wow, says the fox!” exclaimed Jennie. “What do you think of that, +now, Nance?”</p> + +<p>“I think if we <i>are</i> caught we’ll know whom to blame it to,” responded +her chum, decidedly.</p> + +<p>“My goodness me! Do you suppose she would be so mean?” cried another of +the visiting juniors.</p> + +<p>“There’s nothing too mean for Cora to try,” answered Jennie.</p> + +<p>“And I saw her outside her room just as I came in here!” exclaimed +another girl.</p> + +<p>“Oh, me, oh, my!” cried Jennie. “I’ve got to go and see to this.”</p> + +<p>She dashed out of the room, leaving the other girls in a delightful +tremor. She was gone but a moment.</p> + +<p>“Oh, girls! Scatter!” she gasped, when she stuck her head in at the door +again. “Cora’s out of her room and there’s somebody coming up the lower +flight.”</p> + +<p>“The Madame herself!” gasped Nancy.</p> + +<p>The other girls grabbed handfuls of the good things, and ran. The fudge +was not quite done.</p> + +<p>“Quick! Out of the window with it!” gasped Jennie, seizing the handle of +the pan.</p> + +<p>“But she’ll smell it!” wailed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Will she? Not much!” declared Jennie, and grabbing a rubber shoe from +the closet held it for thirty seconds over the flame of the alcohol +lamp.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_290" id="pg_290">290</a></span>Nancy, meanwhile, had been hiding away all the goodies. The candy, pan +and all, had gone out of the window. Nothing but the awful stench of the +rubber shoe could be smelled when the lights went out, and the girls +hopped lightly into bed.</p> + +<p>“Rat, tat, tat!” on the door.</p> + +<p>Jennie yawned, rolled over, and yawned again.</p> + +<p>“Rat, tat, tat!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes’m!” cried Jennie, bouncing up.</p> + +<p>“Nancy Nelson! Nancy Nelson’s wanted!” exclaimed the sleepy voice of +Madame Schakael’s maid, who slept downstairs.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, me! What’s happened?” demanded Nancy, unable to carry out the +farce now. This was not what the girls had expected.</p> + +<p>“Wanted down in the office, Miss. Telegram. The Madame wants to see you +right away.”</p> + +<p>The maid went away.</p> + +<p>“What do you suppose has happened?” demanded Nancy of her chum.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t anything about fudge,” groaned Jennie. “I’m sorry I told you +to throw the fudge out of the window. And I’ve spoiled a perfectly good +rubber!”</p> + +<p>“I must run down. Come with me, Jen!”</p> + +<p>“All right,” agreed her chum, and together the two girls in their +flannel robes scuttled out of <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_291" id="pg_291">291</a></span>Number 83 and down the two flights to the +lower hall.</p> + +<p>There was a light in the principal’s office. When Nancy and Jennie went +in Madame Schakael was sitting at her broad desk. It was not yet +midnight.</p> + +<p>“I was sorry to break up your party, Nancy,” said the little lady, with +a quiet smile. “But it seemed necessary.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Madame! did you know——”</p> + +<p>“I was kindly told by one of your classmates,” said the Madame, grave +again. “I am sorry it so happened. I do not encourage meannesses of any +kind at Pinewood Hall. The tattler is one of the most abominable of our +trials.</p> + +<p>“As for the breaking of the rules by girls who wish to stuff themselves +with goodies after hours, I have little to say. A junior who is +president of her class, and on the road to being one of our most +prominent pupils, knows best what she wishes to do.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Madame! Forgive me!” begged Nancy, greatly troubled. And even +Jennie saw nothing humorous in the incident.</p> + +<p>“You are forgiven, Miss Nelson,” said Madame Schakael, cheerfully. “I +expect, however, my junior and senior girls to help rather than hinder +the general deportment of the school. And <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_292" id="pg_292">292</a></span>‘orgies’ after hours do not +set the younger girls a good example.</p> + +<p>“However,” said the principal, kindly, “this was not my object in +calling you down, as I said before. A telegram has arrived for you. I do +not understand it, but perhaps you will. Here is the evening paper—it +in part solves the mystery. But who, my dear, signs himself or herself +‘Scorch’?”</p> + +<p>“Scorch!” gasped both Nancy and Jennie together.</p> + +<p>The Madame pushed the yellow slip of paper toward the startled Nancy. +She read at a glance what it contained:</p> + +<p class='mtr5 mbr5'>“Come to Garvan’s Hotel at once. G. in bad way. See P. & O. +accident.—<span class="sc">Scorch.</span>”</p> + +<p>“Scorch is Mr. Gordon’s office boy,” said Nancy, trembling.</p> + +<p>“And ‘G.’ stands for Mr. Gordon,” whispered Jennie, looking over her +chum’s shoulder.</p> + +<p>The Madame had rustled open the paper and now displayed the front page +to the eyes of the girls. Spread upon it was the account of a terrible +accident on the P. & O. Railroad. At the top of the list of injured, +printed in black type, was:</p> + +<p class='mtr5 mbr5'>“Henry Gordon, lawyer, Cincinnati, seriously.”</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_293" id="pg_293">293</a></span> +<a name="THE_MAN_IN_GRAY_AGAIN_8145" id="THE_MAN_IN_GRAY_AGAIN_8145"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> +<h3>THE MAN IN GRAY AGAIN</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Do you understand it, Nancy?” asked the principal, quietly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, Madame!”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it is natural for them to send for you if your guardian is +hurt?”</p> + +<p>“Scorch would be sure to send for me,” whispered the girl, nodding.</p> + +<p>“Scorch?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ma’am.”</p> + +<p>“A very peculiar name, Nancy.”</p> + +<p>“He—he is a peculiar boy. But I know him. I have been to his home. He +is my friend.”</p> + +<p>“And Garvan’s Hotel?”</p> + +<p>“Is where Mr. Gordon lives. He is a bachelor.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Then I presume it is all right. But to go to Cincinnati at +night—there is a train in an hour——”</p> + +<p>“Dear Madame Schakael!” cried Jennie. “Let me go with her. I’ll take +care of her.”</p> + +<p>“She’s better able to take care of you, I think, <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_294" id="pg_294">294</a></span>Miss Flyaway,” +observed the Madame, with a smile.</p> + +<p>“We’ll take care of each other, then,” said Jennie, promptly. “I’ll wire +my father, or my brother John. They’ll come in to the city to meet us +to-morrow morning.”</p> + +<p>“That may be a good way to handle the matter,” said the principal, +accepting Jennie’s suggestion with relief. “Miss Nelson should go at +once, I believe. I’ll ’phone Samuel at the stables and have him here at +the door with the light cart before you girls can possibly get ready. +Each of you pack a bag—and pack sensibly. Be off with you!” commanded +the little woman, handling the matter with her customary energy, once +her decision was made.</p> + +<p>Nancy and Jennie ran up to their room once more. The whole house was +still now, especially on the junior floor.</p> + +<p>Only they thought they saw Cora Rathmore’s door ajar.</p> + +<p>“That’s the nasty cat who told!” hissed Jennie, as she and her chum +began to dress.</p> + +<p>“Never mind. We won’t do it again, Jennie. We were wrong.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose we were. But, Nance!”</p> + +<p>“What is it, dear?”</p> + +<p>“I hate like time to have to be an example for <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_295" id="pg_295">295</a></span>the greenies and +sophs.,” wailed Jennie, cramming things into her traveling bag quite +recklessly.</p> + +<p>The girls were ready for their strange journey in twenty minutes. There +was no dawdling over dressing on this occasion. When they returned to +the Madame’s office Samuel was just bringing the dog-cart to the door.</p> + +<p>“Are you warmly dressed, girls?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed, Madame.”</p> + +<p>“Have you sufficient money?”</p> + +<p>“I have nearly ten dollars,” said Nancy.</p> + +<p>“And I have half as much,” added Jennie.</p> + +<p>“Here is twenty more,” said the Madame, putting it into Nancy’s hand. +“Your guardian, Mr. Gordon, has always left a sum for emergencies in my +hand. It seems he has been very liberal. I hope, Nancy, that you will +find him not so seriously injured as the circumstances seem to suggest.”</p> + +<p>She kissed them both warmly and went to the hall door with them.</p> + +<p>“Get their tickets and see them aboard the train. Speak to the conductor +about them, Samuel,” she said to the under gardener.</p> + +<p>“Indeed I will, Madame,” replied the good fellow.</p> + +<p>As they rattled down to the lodge gates, the door of the little cottage +opened and Jessie Pease hurried out in her night wrapper.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_296" id="pg_296">296</a></span>“Wait! Wait, Samuel!” she called, and held up a little basket. “You’ll +be hungry on the train, girls. Some chicken sandwiches, and olives, and +odds and ends that I managed to pick up after the Madame telephoned to +me about your trouble.</p> + +<p>“I hope it isn’t so bad as it looks, Nancy. And take care of her, +Janie—that’s a good lassie!”</p> + +<p>“Oh! aren’t folks just <i>good</i>!” exclaimed Nancy to her chum, as Samuel +drove on. “It just seems as though they <i>do</i> like me a little.”</p> + +<p>“Huh! everybody’s crazy about you, Nance! You ought to know that,” +returned Jennie. “I don’t see what a girl who’s made so many friends +needs of a family—or of money, either. Don’t worry.”</p> + +<p>But Nancy wiped a few tears away. Never before had she appreciated the +fact that here at Pinewood Hall she had made many dear and loving +friends. “Miss Nobody from Nowhere” was just as important as anybody +else in the whole school.</p> + +<p>Samuel drove almost recklessly through the streets of Clintondale in +order to make the night train that stopped but a moment at the station. +They were in good season, however, and the man put them, with their bags +and the basket, aboard.</p> + +<p>It would not have paid to engage sleeping <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_297" id="pg_297">297</a></span>berths at that hour. The two +girls had comfortable seats, and of course, were too excited to wish to +sleep. Jennie proceeded to open the lunch basket at once, however.</p> + +<p>“No knowing when we’ll get a chance to eat again,” declared Nancy’s +lively chum, who was enjoying to the full the opening of this strange +campaign.</p> + +<p>What should they first do when they reached the city? Would the hotel be +open so early in the morning? Would Scorch be at the station to meet +them?</p> + +<p>And this question brought Nancy to another thought. Scorch had not been +communicated with.</p> + +<p>So she wrote a reply to his message, saying that she and Jennie, were +coming to Cincinnati and were then on the train, and had the brakeman +file it for sending at the first station beyond Clintondale at which the +train stopped.</p> + +<p>She addressed it to Scorch O’Brien’s home, believing that it might reach +him more quickly in that way. She did not suppose that the red-haired +youth would be allowed to remain at Garvan’s Hotel over night.</p> + +<p>As it chanced, it was a very good thing Nancy Nelson sent this message, +and addressed it as she did. But, of course, neither she nor Jennie +Bruce <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_298" id="pg_298">298</a></span>suspected how important the matter was at the time.</p> + +<p>And, within a few minutes, something else gripped the attention of the +girls. They were discussing Jessie’s chicken sandwiches, “and other odds +and ends,” when a man walked down the aisle of the rocking coach toward +them.</p> + +<p>“Oh, look, Nance!” whispered Jennie.</p> + +<p>Nancy looked up. The towering figure of a man dressed in a gray suit, +with hat and gloves to match, stopped suddenly beside them. It was +Senator Montgomery, Grace Montgomery’s father.</p> + +<p>“Hul-<i>lo</i>!” he muttered, evidently vastly surprised to see the girls in +the train bound for Cincinnati.</p> + +<p>“How do you do?” said Nancy, softly.</p> + +<p>“Yes! you’re the girl. I thought I was not mistaken,” spoke the Senator, +and although he frowned he seemed to wish to speak pleasantly. “You go +to the same school as my daughter?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Pinewood Hall?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” repeated Nancy.</p> + +<p>“What is your name?”</p> + +<p>“Nancy Nelson.”</p> + +<p>“I thought I could not be mistaken.” The frown was gone from his face +now and his sly <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_299" id="pg_299">299</a></span>eyes twinkled in what was meant to be a jovial way. +“You girls are not running away, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, sir,” said Nancy, timidly.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter, then?” he asked, quickly. He held a folded paper in +his hand which he had evidently been reading.</p> + +<p>“My——A gentleman who looks after me has been hurt and I am going to +him,” responded Nancy, hesitatingly. “They have telegraphed for me.”</p> + +<p>It seemed as though the Senator’s face paled. “You don’t mean to say he +sent word to <i>you</i>?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! not Mr. Gordon.”</p> + +<p>The Senator’s face became suddenly animated again. He smote one hand +heavily upon the chair back.</p> + +<p>“Not my old friend, Henry Gordon—a lawyer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“I saw he was hurt. Why! I myself am going to Cincinnati for the special +purpose of seeing if he really is seriously ill!”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Quite so,” declared the Senator. “And he sent for <i>you</i>? I didn’t know +he had a relative living, my dear.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_300" id="pg_300">300</a></span>“No,” explained Nancy. “It was Scorch who sent for me.”</p> + +<p>“Scorch?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gordon’s office boy.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!”</p> + +<p>“And I am not related to Mr. Gordon,” explained Nancy, wishing to be +perfectly open and aboveboard. “But Mr. Gordon has always looked after +me and—and I didn’t know but I might be of some use to him if he is +alone and injured.”</p> + +<p>“Ahem!” returned the Senator, grimly. “I do not know that I quite +approve. I cannot understand what your principal was thinking of when +she let you two girls come off alone on such an errand. But——Ahem! I +will see you when we arrive at Cincinnati.”</p> + +<p>Jennie had not said a word during this conversation. She waited until +Senator Montgomery had gone along the aisle and was out of earshot. Then +she seized Nancy’s arm suddenly.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got it!” she whispered.</p> + +<p>“Ouch! Got what?” demanded Nancy, striving to free her arm.</p> + +<p>“I see it all!”</p> + +<p>“Then let me see a little of it, Jennie. And, goodness me, dear! don’t +pinch so. What <i>do</i> you mean?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_301" id="pg_301">301</a></span>“Do you know who that man is?” demanded Jennie, in an awed whisper.</p> + +<p>“Of course. He’s Grace Montgomery’s father.”</p> + +<p>“Yes!” cried Jennie, impatiently. “But who else?”</p> + +<p>“Why—why——”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand why we did not see it before!” exclaimed Jennie, +mysteriously. “At any rate <i>you</i> ought to have remembered it when Scorch +was talking that day.”</p> + +<p>“I really wish you would say what you mean, Jen,” said her chum.</p> + +<p>“That man—that Senator Montgomery—who knows your Mr. Gordon so well +and says he is hurrying to him now——”</p> + +<p>“Well?” asked the wide-eyed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“That fellow is the man in gray of whom Scorch told us so long ago. +Don’t you remember? The man who came to Mr. Gordon and seemed to object +because he had sent you to school at Pinewood Hall?”</p> + +<p>Nancy was stricken dumb for the moment. Scorch’s description of the +mysterious man who had left Mr. Gordon in tears came back to her mind +now, clearly.</p> + +<p>“The man in gray,” repeated Jennie, nodding her curly head vigorously.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_302" id="pg_302">302</a></span> +<a name="SCORCH_ON_THE_JOB_8421" id="SCORCH_ON_THE_JOB_8421"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> +<h3>SCORCH “ON THE JOB”</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, dear! Do you suppose that can be possible?” Nancy demanded, +finally.</p> + +<p>“You know I’m right,” Jennie returned, firmly.</p> + +<p>“It—it might be another man.”</p> + +<p>“Two big men, who look important, and who both dress so peculiarly?”</p> + +<p>“We-ell!”</p> + +<p>“It’s he, all right,” declared Jennie, vigorously. “And he knows as much +about you as Gordon does.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so?”</p> + +<p>“But he isn’t as kindly-intentioned toward you as even Old Gordon. I +know by the look he gave you as he went away.”</p> + +<p>“But Grace Montgomery’s father!” gasped Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Maybe you’re related to Grace,” ventured Jennie, with a sudden chuckle. +“And after all the stuff she’s said about you ’round Pinewood, too!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I hope not!” exclaimed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Don’t want Grace for a relation—eh?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_303" id="pg_303">303</a></span>“Dear, me! No!” cried Nancy, quite honestly.</p> + +<p>This amused Jennie immensely; but soon she became more serious and the +two girls discussed the possibilities of the matter most of the way to +Cincinnati.</p> + +<p>Mr. Montgomery did not come back to them. They were free, therefore, to +wonder what he would do when they reached the city.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he won’t want you to see Mr. Gordon,” suggested Jennie.</p> + +<p>“But why?”</p> + +<p>“Why is he so much interested in your affairs?”</p> + +<p>“Do we know that he <i>is</i>?” demanded Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Well! Scorch heard him——”</p> + +<p>“If it really was the same man.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me!” said Jennie, wearily. “You are such a Doubting Tomaso——”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe that’s the feminine form of ‘Thomas,’” chuckled Nancy.</p> + +<p>“I don’t care. It’s as plain as the nose on your face——”</p> + +<p>“Now, don’t get too personal,” begged Nancy, rubbing her nasal organ. +“Let’s wait and see.”</p> + +<p>“But he may try to stop us, I tell you.”</p> + +<p>“Not likely. And why?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! you’ve asked that before,” cried Jennie, petulantly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_304" id="pg_304">304</a></span>But all they could do was to wait and see. Mr. Montgomery might not +even notice them again, although he had intimated that he would speak to +them when they arrived at the station.</p> + +<p>However, the two girls got off the train at their journey’s end without +at once seeing the Senator. It was very early in the morning and the big +train-shed seemed all but deserted.</p> + +<p>Nancy knew, however, that there was a cab stand just outside, and she +and her chum hurried out to it. Before they could find a cabman or speak +to the officer on duty in front of the building, Mr. Montgomery came +bustling up.</p> + +<p>“Are you girls going immediately to Mr. Gordon’s hotel?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” replied Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Come right along with me, then. I have a taxi waiting.”</p> + +<p>Jennie held back a little; yet even she did not see how they could +refuse the offer. They followed him around the nearest corner, and so +did not see a figure that shot panting across the square to the entrance +of the station they had just left.</p> + +<p>This was a youth whose hair, even in the early morning light, displayed +all the fiery hue of sunrise. It was Scorch—but for once Scorch was +just too late.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_305" id="pg_305">305</a></span>Nancy and Jennie were out of sight with the “man in gray” before the +boy reached the railway station in answer to Nancy’s telegram.</p> + +<p>Mr. Montgomery escorted the two girls to a cab standing in a dark +street. It seemed to have been waiting some time, for its engine was not +running and the chauffeur was pacing the walk.</p> + +<p>Possibly Mr. Montgomery had done some telegraphing ahead, too.</p> + +<p>“Get right in here, girls,” he said. “Lucky I was coming on the same +train with you. Your folks will certainly be worried about you.”</p> + +<p>“Now, wasn’t that a funny thing for him to say?” asked Jennie, as she +stepped in after Nancy.</p> + +<p>There was no chance for Nancy to reply, however, for Mr. Montgomery was +close upon their heels. The chauffeur jumped to his seat, the door +slammed, and the cab was off.</p> + +<p>“How far is it to Garvan’s Hotel?” asked Nancy.</p> + +<p>“It’s some distance,” replied Mr. Montgomery. “I only hope Gordon is not +hurt as badly as the paper says. Of course, if he is in the hands of +doctors and nurses they may refuse to let any of us see him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! I hope not!” exclaimed Nancy.</p> + +<p>“We can wait till he’s better, then,” Jennie suggested. “John will be in +town this morning <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_306" id="pg_306">306</a></span>and we’ll go to his office and then go home with him +and wait until you can see Mr. Gordon.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Montgomery snorted, but said nothing. Indeed, he seemed very glum +after they were in the cab.</p> + +<p>What a distance it did seem to Garvan’s Hotel! The cab traveled at high +speed, for there was not much traffic at this hour and the few policemen +paid no attention.</p> + +<p>“This isn’t at all the part of the city I thought Mr. Gordon lived in,” +observed Nancy, once.</p> + +<p>Mr. Montgomery made no comment. Jennie squeezed her chum’s hand and sat +closer to her. To tell the truth, Jennie was getting a little +frightened.</p> + +<p>The cab passed through a web of narrow streets. The girls, although they +knew something about the city, were soon at sea as far as the locality +was concerned.</p> + +<p>“Where <i>are</i> we?” cried Nancy, at last.</p> + +<p>“We have arrived,” spoke the Senator, harshly. “Jump out. I’ll take you +right indoors. I have been here to see Gordon before.”</p> + +<p>“But—but this doesn’t look like a hotel,” murmured Nancy, first to +reach the sidewalk.</p> + +<p>The houses were rows of mean-looking, three-story brick edifices. They +were in a narrow street near the corner of a wider thoroughfare.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_307" id="pg_307">307</a></span>“This is the side entrance,” said the Senator, and taking the girls +firmly by the arm, ushered them up the steps of the nearest house.</p> + +<p>He did not even have to knock. Somebody must have been on watch, for the +door swung open instantly.</p> + +<p>Neither Nancy nor Jennie saw the person who opened the door. It was very +dark in the hall.</p> + +<p>“How is our patient?” asked Mr. Montgomery, rather loudly, as they +stepped in.</p> + +<p>“Not very well—not very well,” said a wheezy voice. “You can go right +up to that room, sir—the sitting room. Ahem! You’ll have to see the +doctor before you can speak with Mr.—Mr.——”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gordon,” said the Senator, briskly. “All right, girls. Hurry +upstairs.”</p> + +<p>Nancy and Jennie were quite confused. They did just as they were urged +to do by Senator Montgomery. At the top of the flight he pushed open a +door and the chums went into the room. The curtains were drawn. One +feeble gas jet was burning. It was a fusty-smelling, cluttered room, +furnished with odds and ends of old furniture and hangings.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be with you directly,” said Mr. Montgomery, and closed the door.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” squealed Jennie.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_308" id="pg_308">308</a></span>“Did you hear it?” whispered Nancy, seizing her chum.</p> + +<p>The key had been turned in the lock. They tried the knob—first one +shook it and then the other. The door could not be opened and there did +not seem to be another door leading out of the room.</p> + +<p>“He’s locked us in!” said Nancy, amazed.</p> + +<p>“I knew he was a villain!” declared Jennie, with a vicious snap of her +teeth. “Isn’t he just like Grace?”</p> + +<p>“But—but how <i>dares</i> he do such a thing?” gasped Nancy.</p> + +<p>“He’s a rich man—he can do anything. Or, he thinks he can,” returned +Jennie. “But you wait till my father gets hold of him!”</p> + +<p>“Do—do you suppose he’ll dare do us any bodily harm?” queried Nancy, +anxiously. “Oh! I wish I hadn’t got you into it, Jennie.”</p> + +<p>“Stuff and nonsense!” exclaimed the more reckless Jennie. “He only wants +to keep you from seeing Gordon.”</p> + +<p>“But—what for?”</p> + +<p>“He’s afraid Mr. Gordon will weaken and tell you all about yourself,” +responded her practical chum. “That’s plain enough.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, me! do you think so? And suppose poor Mr. Gordon <i>dies</i>?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_309" id="pg_309">309</a></span>“Then you’ll never know who you really are, Nance. At least, you can be +sure Grace’s father will never tell you.”</p> + +<p>“If he knows.”</p> + +<p>“If he doesn’t know, and isn’t afraid of your finding out, what does he +bother with us this way for?” demanded Jennie, angrily.</p> + +<p>“Maybe we can get out of the window?”</p> + +<p>“It’s at the back of the house. We couldn’t get out of the yard.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s scream.”</p> + +<p>“Who’d hear us here? Might as well save our breath,” said Jennie.</p> + +<p>“I—I wish Scorch was here,” declared Nancy.</p> + +<p>“So do I—with all my heart. Bless his red head! He’d get us out of this +in short order.”</p> + +<p>As she spoke there came a tapping on one of the window-panes. Jennie and +Nancy both ran to the window, drew aside the heavy curtain and raised +the shade.</p> + +<p>Only a little light filtered in. But it was sufficient to show them a +pale face flattened against the glass.</p> + +<p>The face suddenly grinned widely. Then a hand waved. They saw his red +hair under his cap, and the two girls clung together with a cry of +delight.</p> + +<p>Scorch O’Brien was “on the job.”</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_310" id="pg_310">310</a></span> +<a name="ALL_ABOUT_NANCY_8676" id="ALL_ABOUT_NANCY_8676"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> +<h3>ALL ABOUT NANCY</h3> +</div> + +<p>The red-haired youth drew himself up to the window-sill (he had climbed +a rickety arbor below) and motioned to the girls to unlock the sashes. +They did so and Scorch forced up the lower one.</p> + +<p>“Hist!” he whispered, in a tone so hoarse that it almost choked him. +“Where is he?”</p> + +<p>“We don’t know,” said Jennie, hastily. “He’s locked us into this room.”</p> + +<p>“Of course he would,” said Scorch, airily. “Don’t they always do that? +It’s the gray man; isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes!” said Nancy. “Senator Montgomery.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the man. I got onto his name lately. And I seen him again, too. +Now he’ll keep you from Mr. Gordon.”</p> + +<p>“Is he hurt very badly?” asked Nancy, anxiously.</p> + +<p>“You bet he is!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Scorch!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_311" id="pg_311">311</a></span>“But you’re goin’ to have a chance to talk with him first. He’ll see +you, too. He told me so only last evening. I was with him all night. +Then I ran home for breakfast and found your telegram. Then I beat it +for the station. But you’d got away before I got there.”</p> + +<p>“Senator Montgomery came down on the train with us,” explained Nancy. +“And he said he was coming right to Garvan’s Hotel to see Mr. +Gordon——This is not the hotel; is it, Scorch?”</p> + +<p>“I should say not!” returned the boy. “He fooled you. I asked among the +cabmen at the station, and they all saw you and the gray man. So I +knowed there was trouble afoot.</p> + +<p>“He took you around the corner, and there a milkman saw you all getting +into the taxi. So I grabs another taxi—I had money belongin’ to Old—to +Mr. Gordon—in my pocket.</p> + +<p>“That taxi-driver was a keen one, he was. He trailed your machine like +he was trackin’ a band of Injuns. Cops saw you pass, and switchmen at +the trolley crossin’s.</p> + +<p>“So we got here just as the taxi was whiskin’ his nibs away——”</p> + +<p>“Then he’s not in the house?”</p> + +<p>“I knew he wasn’t when I asked,” said Scorch, calmly. “He’s beat it for +Garvan’s. That’s where we’ll go, too.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_312" id="pg_312">312</a></span>“Oh, Scorch!” cried Jennie. “You’re wonderful. How you going to get us +out?”</p> + +<p>“Not by the window, I hope,” murmured Nancy.</p> + +<p>“Of course not,” the young man replied. “See here.”</p> + +<p>He produced from either trousers leg the two parts of a jointed steel +bar. It went together with a sharp click and proved to be a burglar’s +“jimmy” of the most approved pattern.</p> + +<p>“Scorch O’Brien! Where did you get that thing?” demanded Nancy. “You +could be arrested with it in your possession.”</p> + +<p>“Forget it,” advised Scorch, easily. “My next-door neighbor is a cop. He +let me have it, and I’ll show you how to use it.”</p> + +<p>The youth went to the single door of the room, inserted the point of the +bar between door and frame near the lock, and the next moment the dry +wood gave way, splintering all around the lock. The door came open at a +touch.</p> + +<p>“Sup—suppose they stop us?” breathed Jennie, trembling.</p> + +<p>“Let ’em try!” exclaimed the valiant Scorch, and led the way into the +dark hall.</p> + +<p>They marched downstairs, the girls clinging together and trembling, +without a soul appearing to dispute their advance. The outside door was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_313" id="pg_313">313</a></span>chained; but Scorch had no difficulty in opening it. And so they passed +on out into the grimy street just after sunrise.</p> + +<p>The house was merely an old, ill-kept lodging house, the person who ran +it being under some sort of obligation to Senator Montgomery. The girls +never learned what street it was on.</p> + +<p>“My taxi’s waiting,” said Scorch, proudly, hurrying them around the +corner. “Come on, before it eats its head off and breaks me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’ve got money, Scorch!” cried Nancy.</p> + +<p>“All right. You may need it later.”</p> + +<p>The taxi-cab driver paid no attention to the girls as they got in. +Scorch took his seat beside him, and they were off. In a very few +minutes they stopped at Garvan’s Hotel, in a much better-looking +neighborhood, and Scorch paid for the cab.</p> + +<p>“Come on, now, and let me do the talking,” said the red-headed youth. +“That gray man is ahead of us; but he isn’t the whole thing around +<i>this</i> hotel. They know me better than they do him.”</p> + +<p>Nobody sought to stop them, however. They went up in the elevator and +got out at the third floor. Scorch led the way along the corridor, and +suddenly turned the knob of a door without knocking. The door was +unlocked.</p> + +<p>“Here! What do you want in here, young <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_314" id="pg_314">314</a></span>man?” snapped a voice that Nancy +and Jennie recognized.</p> + +<p>It was Senator Montgomery. Scorch pushed ahead.</p> + +<p>“I must see Mr. Gordon,” he said. “I’ve been with him ever since he was +brought in from the wreck. I’m takin’ my orders from him.”</p> + +<p>“He is in no fit shape to give orders. You can’t see him——”</p> + +<p>He broke off with a startled cry when he saw the girls.</p> + +<p>“Where—where did they come from?” he gasped.</p> + +<p>“Right from where you locked them in, Mister,” replied the boy, boldly. +“But you didn’t count on me; did you? I was on the job. Mr. Gordon has +asked to see Nancy Nelson, and he’s going to see her.”</p> + +<p>“You young scoundrel!” exclaimed the man in gray. “I’ll have you +arrested for breaking and entering.”</p> + +<p>“All right, sir,” returned the youth, quite calmly, but walking swiftly +to the window of the room. “See yonder, Mister? See that cop on the +corner? Well, that’s Mike Dugan. He’s my next-door neighbor. And if you +were the President of the United States, instead of a senator, Mike +Dugan would be a bigger man than you.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_315" id="pg_315">315</a></span>“Understand? Nancy Nelson sees Mr. Gordon just as soon as the nurse +says it’s all right. You try to interfere and I’ll call my friend up +here!”</p> + +<p>The inner door opened and a white-capped nurse appeared.</p> + +<p>“Not so much talking, please!” she said, severely. “You are disturbing +Mr. Gordon. Has the girl appeared yet?”</p> + +<p>Nancy Nelson ran forward. Senator Montgomery tried to stop her; but +Scorch was right in his path.</p> + +<p>“Stand back!” exclaimed the red-haired youth, emulating his favorite +heroes of fiction. “She’s a-going to see him!”</p> + +<p>“Of course she is,” said the nurse, taking Nancy’s hand. “I believe it +will do him more good than anything else. He is worried about something, +and if he relieves his mind, the doctor says, he has a very good chance +of recovering.”</p> + +<p>“He’s mad. He’s not fit to talk with anyone,” declared Senator +Montgomery, as the door closed behind Nancy and the nurse stood on +guard.</p> + +<p>The man was dripping with perspiration and showed every evidence of +panic.</p> + +<p>“Say, boss,” advised Scorch, “if Mr. Gordon is likely to tell anything +that is goin’ to incriminate <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_316" id="pg_316">316</a></span>you, as the newspapers puts it, take my +tip: Get away while you can.”</p> + +<p>And whether because of Scorch’s word, or for other reasons, Mr. +Montgomery tiptoed from the room, and was not seen again about the +hotel. Nancy and Jennie remained, however, for several days, being +assigned to a room next to Mr. Gordon’s suite.</p> + +<p>Just what passed between the injured man and Nancy Nelson nobody but the +two will ever know. Nancy did not tell everything even to her chum. But +Mr. Bruce likewise had a long interview with the lawyer that very day +and at once went to work under the injured man’s direction to obtain +certain property which might be tampered with by those who had kept +Nancy out of her rightful fortune for so long.</p> + +<p>Henry Gordon was equally guilty with his old partner, Montgomery. But +the latter had benefited more largely from the crime, and Gordon had +been a party to it under duress.</p> + +<p>Years before, when he lived in California, Henry Gordon had been tempted +to commit a crime. Had it become known he never could have practised law +again—in any state. Montgomery knew of the lawyer’s slip and held it +over him.</p> + +<p>The Senator’s wife had a sister who was married <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_317" id="pg_317">317</a></span>to a very wealthy +man—Arnold Nelson. It was supposed that Mr. Nelson’s family—himself, +his wife, and little daughter—had died suddenly of a fever during an +epidemic in a coast town.</p> + +<p>With the child dead, the entire property belonging to the Nelsons came +to Senator Montgomery’s wife, and he had the handling of it. But Gordon, +who had known and loved, as a young man, Nancy’s mother, after the +parents’ death found the deserted little girl, placed her with Miss +Prentice at Higbee School, and forced Montgomery to pay, year by year, +for the child’s board and education.</p> + +<p>Where Nancy was, Montgomery did not know until he came across her at +Pinewood Hall. Gordon had no idea that the Senator intended sending his +own daughter to Pinewood, too.</p> + +<p>So that, in brief, was the story the broken and injured lawyer told his +charge. Later he explained more fully to Mr. Bruce, Jennie’s father, and +with the aid of good counsel, Mr. Bruce made the Montgomerys disgorge +the great fortune that they had withheld from Nancy’s use all these +years.</p> + +<p>In the end Mr. Gordon did not die. He remained an invalid for some time, +but slowly recovered. Nancy, by that time, had become such a necessity +to him that he went to Clintondale for <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_318" id="pg_318">318</a></span>the weeks of convalescence when +the doctors refused to let him get back into legal harness again.</p> + +<p>He was really a changed man. He could not act as Nancy’s guardian; Mr. +Bruce, Jennie’s father, did that. But there was scarcely a pleasant +afternoon during the remainder of Nancy’s junior year, while Mr. Gordon +was at Clintondale, that a very red-haired youth, in a smart auto +outfit, did not drive up to the school entrance in a little runabout, +and whisk Nancy down to the village hotel to see Mr. Gordon for an hour +or so.</p> + +<p>And Nancy learned to like Mr. Gordon better than she had ever expected +to when she first bearded the lion in his den.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_319" id="pg_319">319</a></span> +<a name="NO_LONGER_A_NOBODY_8912" id="NO_LONGER_A_NOBODY_8912"></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> +<h3>NO LONGER A NOBODY</h3> +</div> + +<p>After Jennie Bruce’s father, on behalf of Nancy, made his first demand +upon Senator Montgomery in reprisal of the latter’s diversion of Nancy’s +fortune, Grace Montgomery disappeared suddenly from Pinewood Hall.</p> + +<p>It had been so sudden that the girls—especially those who had been so +friendly with her—could scarcely recover from the shock.</p> + +<p>At first, when Nancy and Jennie had gone off at midnight, it was rumored +around the school (said rumor starting from Cora Rathmore’s room) that +the two chums had been expelled for holding an “orgy” after hours. And +there was nobody to contradict this statement, eagerly repeated by the +Montgomery clique, until Jennie came back.</p> + +<p>She was bound not to tell Nancy’s secret, however; otherwise Grace +Montgomery would have “sung small.” The latter, however, was her bold +and mischievous self right up to the very day—some weeks later—when +she received a long letter from her heart-broken mother.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_320" id="pg_320">320</a></span>Mrs. Montgomery had never known the truth about her sister’s child. It +became known somehow that Grace’s mother begged Grace to make a friend +of Nancy and try to influence her to make her lawyer’s demands less +severe upon the Senator, for his fortune was toppling.</p> + +<p>But Grace would never have done this. She had talked of, and to, Nancy +Nelson too outrageously. She could not have asked a favor of the girl +she so disliked—whom she doubly disliked now!</p> + +<p>So she borrowed her fare of Madame Schakael and took the first train +home; and Pinewood Hall never saw her again. Indeed, the girls she left +behind scarcely heard of Grace Montgomery. She never wrote to Cora, +even; and had Bob Endress not come over from Cornell for the New Year +dance, Nancy and Jennie would not have heard much about her.</p> + +<p>“They have all gone back to California,” said Bob, who did not at all +understand the rights of the matter. “Somehow the Senator has lost most +of his money, and they had just enough left to buy a little fruit ranch +down in the state somewhere. Too bad!”</p> + +<p>Nancy did not explain. Why should she have injured his cousin in his +estimation? But she and Bob remained very good friends.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_321" id="pg_321">321</a></span>Nancy lived quite as plainly as she had before. She saw no reason for +changing her mode of living because the lawyers told her there were +great sums of money in store for her.</p> + +<p>That summer, however, she <i>did</i> insist on taking the entire Bruce family +to the mountains as her guests; for they had been very kind to her, and +that while she was still “A Little Miss Nobody.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon had gone back to his practice ere this. He was much aged in +appearance and would always walk with a limp; but his confidential +clerk, a certain red-haired youth in whom Jennie Bruce would always have +a particular interest, was at hand to take the burden of work from the +lawyer’s shoulders when need came.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Patrick Sarsfield O’Brien outstripped everybody else in the +changes that came. In six months (during which he diligently applied +himself to the night school course) he shed his slang like a mantle. +Instead of cheap detective stories hidden in his desk, he had +text-books.</p> + +<p>He is, in fact, a rising young man, and will be a good lawyer some day. +Mr. Gordon is very proud of him.</p> + +<p>And so is Nancy. Scorch was her first friend, and she will never forget +him or cease to be interested in his growth and welfare.</p> + +<p>Nancy and Jennie are climbing the scholastic <span class="pagenum"><a name="pg_322" id="pg_322">322</a></span>hill together. Already the +girls and teachers of the Hall are beginning to brag about Nancy Nelson. +She stands at the head of her class, she is stroke of the school eight, +champion on the ice, and has won a state tennis championship medal in +the yearly tournament of school clubs. She is no longer “A Little Miss +Nobody.”</p> + +<p>Yet she remains the same gentle, rather timid girl she always was. She +can fight for the rights of others; but she does not put forth her own +claims to particular attention.</p> + +<p>“Pshaw! You let folks walk all over you just the same as ever, Nance!” +her chum, Jennie, declares. “Haven’t you any spunk?”</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t want to fight them,” Nancy replies.</p> + +<p>“Goodness to gracious and eight hands around!” ejaculates Jennie, with +exasperation. “If it hadn’t been for Scorch and me you’d never got hold +of your fortune and sent the Montgomerys back to the tall pines. You +know you wouldn’t!”</p> + +<p>But Nancy only smiles at that. She doesn’t mind having her chum take for +herself a big share of the credit for this happy outcome of her affairs.</p> + +<p class="c mt1 mb2 ni">THE END</p> + +<hr style="width: 100%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid gray;" /> + +<p class="c ni mbr5">SOMETHING ABOUT<br /><span class="xl">AMY BELL MARLOWE</span><br /> AND HER BOOKS FOR GIRLS</p> + +<p>In these days, when the printing presses are turning out so many books +for girls that are good, bad and indifferent, it is refreshing to come +upon the works of such a gifted authoress as Miss Amy Bell Marlowe, who +is now under contract to write exclusively for Messrs. Grosset & Dunlap.</p> + +<p>In many ways Miss Marlowe’s books may be compared with those of Miss +Alcott and Mrs. Meade, but all are thoroughly modern and wholly American +in scene and action. Her plots, while never improbable, are exceedingly +clever, and her girlish characters are as natural as they are +interesting.</p> + +<p>On the following pages will be found a list of Miss Marlowe’s books. +Every girl in our land ought to read these fresh and wholesome tales. +They are to be found at all booksellers. Each volume is handsomely +illustrated and bound in cloth, stamped in colors. Published by Grosset +& Dunlap, New York. A free catalogue of Miss Marlowe’s books may be had +for the asking.</p> + +<hr class="ad" /> + +<p class="c l ni mbr5">THE OLDEST OF FOUR</p> + +<p>“I don’t see any way out!”</p> + +<p>It was Natalie’s mother who said that, after the awful news had been +received that Mr. Raymond had been lost in a shipwreck on the Atlantic. +Natalie was the oldest of four children, and the family was left with +but scant means for support.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got to do something—yes, I’ve just got to!” Natalie said to +herself, and what the brave girl did is well related in “The Oldest of +Four; Or, Natalie’s Way Out.” In this volume we find Natalie with a +strong desire to become a writer. At first she contributes to a local +paper, but soon she aspires to larger things, and comes in contact with +the editor of a popular magazine. This man becomes her warm friend, and +not only aids her in a literary way but also helps in a hunt for the +missing Mr. Raymond.</p> + +<p>Natalie has many ups and downs, and has to face more than one bitter +disappointment. But she is a plucky girl through and through.</p> + +<p>“One of the brightest girls’ stories ever penned,” one well-known author +has said of this book, and we agree with him. Natalie is a thoroughly +lovable character, and one long to be remembered. Published as are all +the Amy Bell Marlowe books, by Grosset & Dunlap, New York, and for sale +by all booksellers. Ask your dealer to let you look the volume over.</p> + +<hr class="ad" /> + +<p class="c l ni mbr5">THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM</p> + +<p>“We’ll go to the old farm, and we’ll take boarders! We can fix the old +place up and, maybe, make money!”</p> + +<p>The father of the two girls was broken down in health and a physician +had recommended that he go to the country, where he could get plenty of +fresh air and sunshine. An aunt owned an abandoned farm and she said the +family could live on this and use the place as they pleased. It was +great sport moving and getting settled, and the boarders offered one +surprise after another. There was a mystery about the old farm, and a +mystery concerning one of the boarders, and how the girls got to the +bottom of affairs is told in detail in the story, which is called, “The +Girls of Hillcrest Farm; Or, The Secret of the Rocks.”</p> + +<p>It was great fun to move to the farm, and once the girls had the scare +of their lives. And they attended a great “vendue” too.</p> + +<p>“I just had to write that story—I couldn’t help it,” said Miss Marlowe, +when she handed in the manuscript. “I knew just such a farm when I was a +little girl, and oh! what fun I had there! And there was a mystery about +that place, too!”</p> + +<p>Published, like all the Marlowe books, by Grosset & Dunlap, New York, +and for sale wherever good books are sold.</p> + +<hr class="ad" /> + +<p class="c l ni mbr5">A LITTLE MISS NOBODY</p> + +<p>“Oh, she’s only a little nobody! Don’t have anything to do with her!”</p> + +<p>How often poor Nancy Nelson heard those words, and how they cut her to +the heart. And the saying was true, she <i>was</i> a nobody. She had no +folks, and she did not know where she had come from. All she did know +was that she was at a boarding school and that a lawyer paid her tuition +bills and gave her a mite of spending money.</p> + +<p>“I am going to find out who I am, and where I came from,” said Nancy to +herself, one day, and what she did, and how it all ended, is absorbingly +related in “A Little Miss Nobody; Or, With the Girls of Pinewood Hall.” +Nancy made a warm friend of a poor office boy who worked for that +lawyer, and this boy kept his eyes and ears open and learned many +things.</p> + +<p>The book tells much about boarding school life, of study and fun mixed, +and of a great race on skates. Nancy made some friends as well as +enemies, and on more than one occasion proved that she was “true blue” +in the best meaning of that term.</p> + +<p>Published by Grosset & Dunlap, New York and for sale by booksellers +everywhere. If you desire a catalogue of Amy Bell Marlowe books send to +the publishers for it and it will come free.</p> + +<hr class="ad" /> + +<p class="c l ni mbr5">THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH</p> + +<p>Helen was very thoughtful as she rode along the trail from Sunset Ranch +to the View. She had lost her father but a month before, and he had +passed away with a stain on his name—a stain of many years’ standing, +as the girl had just found out.</p> + +<p>“I am going to New York and I am going to clear his name!” she resolved, +and just then she saw a young man dashing along, close to the edge of a +cliff. Over he went, and Helen, with no thought of the danger to +herself, went to the rescue.</p> + +<p>Then the brave Western girl found herself set down at the Grand Central +Terminal in New York City. She knew not which way to go or what to do. +Her relatives, who thought she was poor and ignorant, had refused to +even meet her. She had to fight her way along from the start, and how +she did this, and won out, is well related in “The Girl from Sunset +Ranch; Or, Alone in a Great City.”</p> + +<p>This is one of the finest of Amy Bell Marlowe’s books, with its +true-to-life scenes of the plains and mountains, and of the great +metropolis. Helen is a girl all readers will love from the start.</p> + +<p>Published by Grosset & Dunlap, New York, and for sale by booksellers +everywhere.</p> + +<hr class="ad" /> + +<p class="c l ni mbr5">WYN’S CAMPING DAYS</p> + +<p>“Oh, girls, such news!” cried Wynifred Mallory to her chums, one day. +“We can go camping on Lake Honotonka! Isn’t it grand!”</p> + +<p>It certainly was, and the members of the Go-Ahead Club were delighted. +Soon they set off, with their boy friends to keep them company in +another camp not far away. Those boys played numerous tricks on the +girls, and the girls retaliated, you may be sure. And then Wyn did a +strange girl a favor, and learned how some ancient statues of rare value +had been lost in the lake, and how the girl’s father was accused of +stealing them.</p> + +<p>“We must do all we can for that girl,” said Wyn. But this was not so +easy, for the girl campers had many troubles of their own. They had +canoe races, and one of them fell overboard and came close to drowning, +and then came a big storm, and a nearby tree was struck by lightning.</p> + +<p>“I used to love to go camping when a girl, and I love to go yet,” said +Miss Marlowe, in speaking of this tale, which is called, “Wyn’s Camping +Days; Or, The Outing of the Go-Ahead Club.” “I think all girls ought to +know the pleasures of summer life under canvas.”</p> + +<p>A book that ought to be in the hands of all girls. Issued by Grosset & +Dunlap, New York, and for sale by booksellers everywhere.</p> + +<hr style="width: 100%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid gray;" /> + +<div class='noindent'> +<p class="c xl b mt2">GIRL SCOUTS SERIES</p> +<p class="c">By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY<br />Author of the “Polly Brewster Books”</p> +<hr class="ad5" /> +<p class="c b s">Handsomely Bound. Colored Wrappers. Illustrated<br />Each Volume Complete in Itself.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="ad5" /> + +<p>Here is a series that holds the same position for girls that the Tom +Slade and Roy Blakeley books hold for boys. They are delightful stories +of Girl Scout camp life amid beautiful surroundings and are filled with +stirring adventures.</p> + +<p class="ni mtr5">GIRL SCOUTS AT DANDELION CAMP</p> + +<p>This is a story which centers around the making and the enjoying of a +mountain camp, spiced with the fun of a lively troop of Girl Scouts. The +charm of living in the woods, of learning woodcraft of all sorts, of +adventuring into the unknown, combine to make a busy and an exciting +summer for the girls.</p> + +<p class="ni mtr5">GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ADIRONDACKS</p> + +<p>New scenery, new problems of camping, association with a neighboring +camp of Boy Scouts, and a long canoe trip with them through the Fulton +Chain, all in the setting of the marvelous Adirondacks, bring to the +girls enlargement of horizon, new development, and new joys.</p> + +<p class="ni mtr5">GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES</p> + +<p>On horseback from Denver through Estes Park as far as the Continental +Divide, climbing peaks, riding wild trails, canoeing through canyons, +shooting rapids, encountering a landslide, a summer blizzard, a sand +storm, wild animals, and forest fires, the girls pack the days full with +unforgettable experiences.</p> + +<p class="ni mtr5">GIRL SCOUTS IN ARIZONA AND NEW MEXICO</p> + +<p>The Girl Scouts visit the mountains and deserts of Arizona and New +Mexico. They travel over the old Sante Fe trail, cross the Painted +Desert, and visit the Grand Canyon. Their exciting adventures form a +most interesting story.</p> + +<p class="ni mtr5">GIRL SCOUTS IN THE REDWOODS</p> + +<p>The girls spend their summer in the Redwoods of California and +incidentally find a way to induce a famous motion picture director in +Hollywood to offer to produce a film that stars the Girl Scouts of +America.</p> + +<hr class="ad5" /> + +<p class="ni c">GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class="sc">Publishers</span>, NEW YORK</p> + +<hr style="width: 100%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid gray;" /> + +<div class='noindent'> +<p class="c xl b mt2 mbr5">THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES</p> +<p class="c">By LAURA LEE HOPE</p> +<p class="c">Author of the “Bobbsey Twins,” “Bunny Brown” Series, Etc.</p> +<hr class="ad5" /> +<p class="c b s">Uniform Style of Binding. Individual Colored Wrappers.<br />Every Volume Complete in Itself.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="ad5" /> + +<p>These are the tales of the various adventures participated in by a group +of bright, fun-loving, up-to-date girls who have a common bond in their +fondness for outdoor life, camping, travel and adventure. They are clean +and wholesome and free from sensationalism.</p> + +<p class="ni mtr5">THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT OCEAN VIEW<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON PINE ISLAND<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT THE HOSTESS HOUSE<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT BLUFF POINT<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT WILD ROSE LODGE<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN THE SADDLE<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AROUND THE CAMPFIRE<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON CAPE COD<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT FOAMING FALLS<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ALONG THE COAST<br /> +THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT SPRING HILL FARM</p> + +<hr class="ad5" /> + +<p class="ni c">GROSSET & DUNLAP, <i>Publishers</i>, NEW YORK</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LITTLE MISS NOBODY***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 24168-h.txt or 24168-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/1/6/24168">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/1/6/24168</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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