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.

"But I tell you what," said Jennie, after a bit, and speaking reflectively.

"Yes?"

"Just give Bob Endress the tip to say nothing to the other girls about how he first met you."

"Oh!"

"Don't you see? If Cora and Grace find out where you lived before you came to Pinewood Hall, they'll maybe learn all about you. And perhaps, that _would_ be bad," said Jennie, slowly.

"Then you see it too?" asked Nancy, sadly. "They'll be very sure I am a n.o.body then."

"It's a shame how girls will talk," admitted Jennie Bruce. "Especially that kind of girls."

"I wish I had _you_ for a friend, Jennie," said Nancy, in a whisper.

"Why! you have!" cried the other. "I've always wanted to know you better. But the girls think you are offish."

"I don't mean to be."

"No, I see," returned Jennie. "But I understand you now. I wish you were in this room instead of Sally."

"And if you only were in Number 30, instead of Cora," spoke Nancy, out loud.

And upon the very echo of these words, a clear voice demanded:

"And will you tell me, Miss Nelson, how it is that _you_ are not in Number 30--your proper dormitory--at this hour of the night?"

Both girls sat up in bed as though worked with the same spring. They could not speak. Madame Schakael stood in the doorway.

CHAPTER XV

A GREAT DEAL HAPPENS

The Madame's doll-like figure has been mentioned before in these chronicles. But to Nancy Nelson's excited imagination the princ.i.p.al 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!

Nancy couldn't speak for the moment. Even the lively Jennie Bruce's gayety was stifled in her throat.

"I hope you are not stricken dumb, Nancy," suggested the Madame, in the same low voice.

"Oh, Madame! forgive me!" gasped the culprit at last, and slipped out of bed.

"Where are your robe and slippers?"

"Right here, Madame," answered the frightened freshman, getting into them in a hurry.

"Well! stand there. Tell me why you are in the wrong room?"

"Oh, it isn't Jennie's fault--'deed it isn't, Madame!" gasped Nancy.

"I am not going to eat you, child," said the princ.i.p.al of the school, with some exasperation. "Having broken a rule, please stand up properly and answer my questions.

"How came you here, Nancy Nelson?"

"Jennie--Jennie found me crying in the hall."

"What for?"

"I--I felt bad."

"You were ill?"

"Oh, no, ma'am," Nancy hastened to say. "I was not ill at all. Only I was--was lonely--and--and sorry--and----"

"Not altogether clear, Nancy," said the Madame; but her voice was lower and softer. "Tell me why you were crying in the hall?"

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.

"Do you hear me, Nancy?" asked Madame Schakael, firmly.

"Yes, Madame," whispered the girl.

"Can't you answer me?"

"No--no, Madame."

"Why not?"

Nancy was silent for fully a minute, the Madame waiting without a sign of irritation.

"That--that, too, I cannot answer," said the miserable girl, at last.

"Do you realize what such a refusal means, Nancy?"

"You--you will have to punish me."

"Seriously."

"Yes, Madame; seriously."

"And your record to date has been quite the best of any girl of your cla.s.s."

Nancy locked her hands together and gazed at the princ.i.p.al. But she could say nothing.