"Now! you know what the Madame would say to _that_, Miss," growled Jim.

"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 to get wet," and she st.u.r.dily shouldered her way past the driver and into the 'bus between the knees of the girls on either hand.

"I can stand," she said, grimly.

"But don't stand on my foot, please, Miss!" snapped a girl she was crowding. "Haven't you any feet of your own?"

"Oh, cracky, Bertha! you know she's got to stand somewhere. And your feet----"

"Ouch! who are _you_ shoving?"

"Step forward, please!"

"Plenty of room up front!"

"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.

Nancy was confused, hurt, and ashamed. The horse splashed through the puddles and the 'bus plunged and shook over the cobbles.

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.

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.

The new girl from Higbee was much depressed. All her pride and satisfaction in being sent to such a popular school as Pinewood had oozed away.

Her experience with Mr. Gordon added to her unhappiness. She had learned nothing by going to him. He had even called her disobedient.

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.

It was a hopeless outlook. She would have cried--only she was ashamed to do so in the sight of these sharp-tongued, quarreling soph.o.m.ores. Poor Nancy Nelson's introduction to Pinewood Hall seemed a most unfortunate one.

CHAPTER VIII

THE MADAME

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.

But for many years it had been a girls' school, and Madame Schakael had come from Germany to be its princ.i.p.al. 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.

He was now dead and Madame had come back to her native land and to her much beloved preparatory school.

The door of the lodge opened and Nancy saw a very neat looking woman with a dark dress and gingham ap.r.o.n standing in the doorway. She waved a hand and her cheerful voice reached the ears of the wrangling girls in the 'bus.

"Welcome, young ladies! Are you all right? Are there any new ones there?"

"We're all sophs but one greeny," called one of the girls. "Glad to see you, Jessie Pease."

"Thank you, Miss. The new one is to go to the Madame at once. That is the order. Let her go before supper."

The driver snapped his whip and the 'bus rumbled on. The drive was winding and the trees soon hid the lighted lodge.

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.

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.

At last the 'bus stopped at the foot of a wide flight of steps. A great awning of gla.s.s 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.

This was indeed a very different place from Higbee School, with its cottages and one small recitation hall.

"Come on! You get out first, Greeny," commanded one girl. "You were the last sardine shoved into this awful box. Move; can't you?"

Nancy rescued her bag from under their feet and staggered out of the door of the 'bus. The other girls piled after her.

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 gla.s.s, and loud talking and laughter, pointed the way to the dining room.

"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."

At that moment considerable disturbance was raised over the fact that the 'bus was driving off with one of the girls still in it.

"Let Belle Macdonald out! I told you she was asleep in there," cried one of the sophs, running after the driver through the puddles.

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, dropping sundry of her impedimenta, sleepy and yawning.

"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?"

"Come on in to dinner," said the girl who helped the sleepy one.

"Believe _me_! 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?"

"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."

They trooped away, leaving Nancy and her bag practically alone on the porch. Nancy had never realized that girls could be so hateful.

But she forgot that these were all soph.o.m.ores, and the second-year girls and freshmen at Pinewood Hall were as far apart as the poles.

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.

There seemed to be no real "greeny" but herself about. She saw several girls pa.s.s and repa.s.s at the far end of the hall, and others mounted the staircases; but at first n.o.body spoke to Nancy.

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 princ.i.p.al's office; but which one Nancy could not guess.

For five minutes she waited. Then suddenly she was aware of a tall and very dark girl coming down one of the great staircases.