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 cla.s.s, at least. Nancy asked herself seriously if she should strive to make friendships through such a channel.

Young as she was, the girl had serious thoughts at times, and this was one of the times. She hid 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.

But the most surprising thing that happened was Cora coming to her almost as soon as they were released from the cla.s.srooms for a short run in the bas.e.m.e.nt recreation room.

"I suppose you think I'm a mean thing," said the black-eyed girl, glancing at Nancy askance.

"I'll leave it for you to say," returned Nancy. "If I had run to Madame Schakael with a story about you----"

"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."

Now, Nancy did not believe this at all; but she said nothing to show Cora that she distrusted her first friendly (?) advance.

"Anyway," said the black-eyed one, "she _did_ ask me about you, and if you were out early, as usual. Oh! you can't fool the Madame."

"I shouldn't want to try," observed Nancy, quietly.

"Well! if you didn't act so offish we girls would like to be friends with you," said Cora, tucking her arm into Nancy's. "Going skating this afternoon?"

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.

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.

"Oh, I wish I had Jennie for a roommate," thought Nancy Nelson. "I really would be happy then, I do believe."

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.

Grace Montgomery was not among these; Grace never had a word for Nancy, so the younger girl kept away from the senator's daughter.

But the river was broad, and the ice was like gla.s.s, and in the exhilaration of the sport Nancy forgot snubs and back-biting, and all the ill-natured slights under which she had suffered since becoming a dweller in Number 30, West Side, Pinewood Hall.

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.

"Guess the old doctor has a grouch again. Isn't that mean? There isn't a boy in sight."

"Not one!"

"Isn't it horrid of him?" cried another.

"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.

"I _did_ 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."

It struck Nancy that she had heard this Bob Endress spoken of before; but she had no idea that there was any reason why _she_ should be interested in him.

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 Cora's chief chums in Number 30; but Cora herself chanced to be out.

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.

"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."

"Oh, do you think so?"

"Everybody else has put up for a fudge party, or something of the kind, while she hasn't done a thing."

"Maybe she hasn't the money?"

"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."

"Ah, now----"

"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."

"Well! I _do_ think Grace takes too much upon herself sometimes."

"She's going to be cla.s.s president. Voting comes just before the Christmas holidays, and when we come back we'll know who gets the chair.

Madame doesn't allow the freshies to organize until then. Well! Cora's got to do different."

"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."

"But Cora----"

"Hush-up!" commanded another. "Want everybody to hear you?" and she motioned toward Nancy. The latter saw her in the gla.s.s.

So the two went out. Nancy wondered if Cora was so popular, after all.

If it _was_ Cora of whom the two were speaking.

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.

"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?"

"Did I what?" asked Nancy, looking up from her book.

"Have you spent all your allowance?"

"No-o," said Nancy slowly, not quite sure that she _had_ an allowance, Mr. Gordon gave her money so irregularly.

"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."

"That is too bad," observed Nancy, with a faint smile.

"Isn't it?" exclaimed Cora. "And they'll all say Number 30 is so mean! I hate to have our room get _that_ name."

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.

"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."