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.

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 appet.i.te.

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.

"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."

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 month and a half at Pinewood in the spring, knew about the running of the school.

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.

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.

Nancy learned much that first forenoon at Pinewood. She did not talk much with any of the girls--either of her own cla.s.s or older. But she heard a good deal, and kept her eyes and ears open.

She remembered what the lodgekeeper's wife had told her, and she found her way to Jessie Pease's room in the bas.e.m.e.nt. 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.

n.o.body called her "Mrs. Pease;" she insisted upon their treating her as though she really were their older sister.

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.

"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!"

"Well, my hats won't stay on without it," complained Elsie. "And anyway, mother's maid packed my trunk."

"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.

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.

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 course, the freshies only had their home pictures and little silver or gla.s.s keepsakes and toilet sets.

"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.

"And now, where are the pretty things--in your bag?"

"My old clothes are in the bag, please," replied Nancy, bashfully.

"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.

"There--there aren't any folks, please," stammered Nancy.

"What, dear?" gasped the woman, sitting straighter on her knees and staring at her.

"I am an orphan, and I have no friends, ma'am," stammered Nancy, in so low a voice that n.o.body else could hear.

"You poor girl!" cried the woman, her smile fading, but love and welcome still shining in her big, brown eyes.

She stretched forth her arms and--somehow--Nancy found herself in the tight circle, with her head down in the curve of Jessie Pease's motherly neck.

"How long ago did you lose them, dear?" asked the good woman.

"Oh, a very long, long time ago," sobbed Nancy. "I was too little to remember--much."

"And you've missed 'em ever since--you've just been _honin'_ for a mother, I know," said the woman, crooningly, and patting Nancy's shoulder.

"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 _got_ to be mothered--you come down to the lodge to Jessie Pease.

Remember, now! You will surely come?"

"I will," promised Nancy.

"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!"

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.

From the very first day the black-eyed girl tried 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.

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.

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."

"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?"

"Maybe they're so ugly they're afraid of breaking the camera if they pose for a picture," giggled another light-minded girl.

"Well," drawled Belle Macdonald, who was one of Cora's soph.o.m.ore 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?"

"She hasn't told _me_, that's sure," snapped Cora. "She's a n.o.body, I believe. I don't believe she belongs in this school with decent girls."

"Oh, Cora! what do you mean?" gasped one of her hearers.

"Well, Pinewood is supposed to be a school for well-connected girls. I know _my_ mother would never have let me come had she supposed I was to be paired with a little Miss n.o.body."

"We ought to have our choice," sighed another of the girls.

"And Grace and I were going to have _such_ fun this half," declared Cora.

One of the others giggled. "That's why you weren't allowed to be with Montgomery," she remarked. "I heard Corinne talking about it."

"Oh, that Canuck! I hate her," said Cora, speaking thus disrespectfully about the West Side captain.

"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.

"A fine chance Montgomery, or Cora, would have to be captain," giggled another.