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.

"Ah-ha, Miss Mousie!" said Corinne, pausing 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."

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.

The Montgomery clique, after all, embraced only a very few of the freshman cla.s.s and some half dozen or more sophs. The latter had no influence at all in Nancy's cla.s.s for, naturally, it was "war to the knife" between the freshies and the cla.s.s immediately above them in the school.

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.

Yet, after all, Nancy was not entirely easy in her mind. That the story of her being a "mere n.o.body" had failed to make her ostracised by the better cla.s.s of Pinewood Hall girls, was a delightful fact.

Yet the story was true. Nancy _was_ n.o.body; as the Montgomery and Cora said, her parents _might_ be people of no morals nor breeding. There _might_ be some great shame connected with herself and her family.

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.

"Some day it will come all right, Nance," the former a.s.sured 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."

"Oh! do you suppose you and I could go to Cincinnati together!" gasped Nancy.

"Goody! It would be great!"

"And then you could see Scorch."

"And I want to see that Mr. Gordon. I bet that lawyer knows more about you than he is willing to tell."

"But perhaps he is doing his best for me, after all," concluded Nancy, with a sigh.

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.

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.

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.

Jessie Pease put her head into Number 30 a day or two after Jennie's arrival, and exclaimed with delight:

"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 _do_ make me a world of trouble."

"Trouble! Trouble!" shouted Jennie. "How dare you say such a thing?" and then she danced around the good soul, clapping her hands and singing:

"Pease Porridge hot--pease porridge cold-- Pease porridge in the pot, nine days old!

Some like it hot--some like it cold-- But Jessie Pease of Pinewood never will be old!"

"Bless ye, Janie," said the good Scotchwoman, "I hope I'll never be any older than the youngest bairn who comes here to school."

"Sure! you're a regular kid!" declared Jennie, hugging her.

"My usefulness here will be all forbye when I can't be a la.s.sie wi'

other la.s.sies," declared the lodgekeeper's wife, kissing both Jennie and Nancy and then going her way.

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.

Girls of her own cla.s.s, 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.

She had made a splendid mark in cla.s.ses, 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.

Now, with the ban lifted from her recreation hours, Nancy could go on the river again. And skating was one of her favorite sports.

The weather had remained cold all this time 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Bob Endress, however, had seemed to Nancy to be a particularly nice boy.

And they had had a secret understanding together before Grace and Cora had found out about Higbee School.

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 n.o.body and was really beneath his notice.

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.

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.

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!

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 partner, that she could cut figure eights, could do the "long roll," and otherwise give a good account of herself on the ice.

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 partic.i.p.ate. 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.

But Jennie urged Nancy to do her best in the long races.

"That's where you will have 'em, Nance," she declared. "Half of these big girls lose their breath after a little run."

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.

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.

Each cla.s.s 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."

"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."

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.