Morning came, and with it the new excitement. d.i.c.k, frankly interested, kept an eye out for the Murchison car, a beautiful thing in dark wine-color. "Gee!" cried d.i.c.k in a tone discreetly low, "that's a beauty! I'm going to have one just like it some day. There's your colored chauffeur, Sis, in uniform. Say, I didn't know that Dad was hobn.o.bbing with the aristocrats!"

"Hush, d.i.c.k," said Mrs. Lee, annoyed. "Mr. Murchison is a very wealthy gentleman and lives in accordance with his means. Are you ready, Betty?

Please answer the bell, d.i.c.k. It is the chauffeur."

"Give me an ap.r.o.n and cap, Mom," remarked the irrepressible d.i.c.k, "for the maid must answer the door."

"You're wrong. d.i.c.k," said Doris, who was gathering up her books. "The butler should be at the door. See how elegant you can be, though I'm afraid they will think you rather young."

But the bell had rung, and d.i.c.k ran, rather too hurriedly for dignity in his role of butler, if that suggestion by Doris was to be taken seriously. She was listening as d.i.c.k threw open the front door.

"Is you-all ready foh goin' to school with Miss Lucy an' Loosha?"

"I'll call Betty," said d.i.c.k. "Yes, she is ready." So the girl Betty called "Lu-_chee_-a," the chauffeur called _"Loosha_."

"Miss Lucy said that she wanted to take _all_ the children to school, foh she thought there was some o' them that went to the Junior High School."

"Please thank the countess," said d.i.c.k, as properly as if it had been his father. "We shall be very glad to come and we can be out as soon as we can gather up our books."

The chauffeur went back to the car, while d.i.c.k hastily called Betty and Doris, though Doris had been curious enough to stay within hearing, and if the truth were told, Doris had taken extra care with her toilet that morning, in case she should happen within sight of Countess Coletti and Lucia, her daughter.

"She wants us all to come, Mother," excitedly she reported. "Shall we?"

"Certainly. It would be impolite to refuse. Yes, better wear your coat, though it is so warm this morning."

"Shall you go out to the car and meet them, Mother?" asked Betty, doubtfully, though that is what would have happened in their old home, if any friend had driven up, or strangers, indeed, with such an invitation to the children.

"No," replied Mrs. Lee. "Had the countess appeared, or asked to see me, I might; but they are all in a hurry. Don't waste a moment. It is very thoughtful for the countess to include you and Doris, d.i.c.k. Just be appreciative, polite and quiet. I can trust all of you to be that, I'm sure."

But Countess Coletti might be trusted also, to make the children feel comfortable. She was smiling at the three with their books, a necessary accompaniment, alas, as Doris thought. "Good morning, Betty," she said, while Lucia smiled and nodded, leaving conversation to her mother. "You are good not to keep us waiting. These are your brother and sister, I'm sure. This is my daughter, Lucia Coletti. Now you may sit here, Betty, your sister there and the brother, too. Ready, Horace."

Horace did not look around, but started the car and off they went in the fresh September morning, bright and clear. "It is d.i.c.k and Doris, Countess Coletti," said Betty, thinking that the names of the twins should be mentioned. The term "discretion" did not do justice to the att.i.tude of the twins, almost too sober, Betty thought, but they _were_ dear children!

Yet the experienced countess led the conversation, telling them of Lucia's troubles in arranging her schedule, some of them to be discussed with the princ.i.p.al that morning, and chatting of how pleasantly Lucia was impressed with her mother's old home and how good "the old town"

looked to one who had been away as many years as she herself had pa.s.sed abroad. "We never could seem to find a time," said she, "when it was convenient to come, though my brother and his family were over often."

Betty wondered what family Mr. Murchison had. Her father probably did not know or he would have mentioned it.

The handsome car and its occupants caused some notice among the early arrivals at the school. The chauffeur drove in and parked the car behind the building on one of the drives there. Betty showed the party how to reach the nearest entrance and led them up the stairs and through the halls to the office of the princ.i.p.al. He was affable but business-like.

He hesitated when Countess Coletti asked that Betty be permitted to show Lucia about, though she asked most prettily and with no a.s.sumption that it must be done for her. "It would be such a favor," said she, "if Betty will not miss anything important."

"Everything is important, Countess Coletti," smiled the princ.i.p.al, "but I think we shall arrange it for your daughter not to be lost. Here, Betty, is the schedule we have made out for Miss Coletti. See if you have any cla.s.ses together?"

With the princ.i.p.al, Betty, feeling rather important for a modest body like herself, worked out a program for the day. She would take Lucia to her first cla.s.s, introduce her to the teacher and leave her there, stopping for her at the close of the period without losing much time, since the recitation rooms happened to be near. They had the same home room, which made it easy to begin the day together. Betty herself had not been there on the opening morning and had been forced to see her home room teacher later in the day, to find out many things. There were practically no recitations of any length, and periods were shortened for an a.s.sembly. Lunch, fortunately, would be prepared in the lunch rooms and the full day's schedule carried out, an unusual proceeding even for the third day, why, Betty did not know.

"Your daughter, Madam, need not worry at all. In case she becomes confused, there is always the office. We are ready to rescue any pupil, and without reproof in these opening days. I hope that Miss Lucia will enjoy the new experience."

With this the interview closed. Betty showed the countess how to reach her car, but with the ringing of the gongs, she and Lucia went to find their home room and report.

It was a home room of girls, to be sure, but Betty felt a little self-conscious as she accompanied Lucia to the desk and introduced her to their home room teacher, not the dear Miss Heath, but a teacher to whom Betty had not happened to recite in her freshman year. Keen eyes appraised her and Lucia, who was not at all embarra.s.sed. Lucia was accustomed to being stared at and to traveling around. As long as Betty kept her from being lost about places and duties, it was all right. What difference did it make to her what impression she was making?

"Lucia Coletti," the teacher repeated, taking the card from Lucia and p.r.o.nouncing the name correctly, as Betty had given it. She made a few notes on a paper at hand. "Is she a friend of yours, Betty Lee?"

"Yes'm. That is, I'm showing her around because she is new to everything. She just came to New York on the _Statendam_ and has been to school in Switzerland."

Miss Orme, who was accustomed to meet many Italian children in the city schools, revised her first impression made by the name, and looked again at this easily poised girl who had been to school in Switzerland. Lucia met her gaze without interest, politely waiting directions. "Lucia is the daughter of----"

"Count Coletti, of Milan," suddenly said Lucia, to Betty's surprise.

Betty had not intended to tell the teacher who Lucia was, then thought perhaps she'd better, for Lucia's sake, for her relatives, the Murchisons, were well-known in the city and it would be better, too, for Miss Orme to place the girl at once in her mind. But why did Lucia forestall the introduction as her mother's daughter? Perhaps that was it. Was there some idea of loyalty to her father, or was she just proud of it?

"Oh, yes," laconically replied Miss Orme, who had, unfortunately, a rooted distaste for American women that married foreigners. "I think I have heard of your mother. Betty, there is a vacant seat across from you on the back row. Too bad you are both so late, but you can get from the other girls what has already been said about many of the details. Show Lucia to her seat, Betty."

As Betty went down the aisle ahead of Lucia, Peggy Pollard caught her eye and coughed discreetly. Selma grinned up at her and Kathryn widened her big eyes purposely. This home room of soph.o.m.ore girls was the limit!

CHAPTER VII: LITTLE ADJUSTMENTS

The next morning Selma joined Betty on the walk from the street-car to the school building. "Betty," said she, "I'm really in earnest about your being on the hockey team. I'm afraid not enough of the girls are going to take an interest. I mean the kind of girls that count. You are so quick and graceful about your swimming and good at everything you do, and I saw you play hockey once last year."

"I haven't a quarter about me, I'm afraid," said Betty, very soberly, looking in her small purse.

"A quarter--what for?" asked Selma before she sensed what Betty meant.

"Oh, that's all right. You needn't pay me for the compliments, and I'm not saying it just to get you to be on the team. Miss Fox has charge of the hockey this year and she asked me to keep an eye out for good material. The team is pretty well made up, I guess, and she says that I should be captain, but that is as it may be, Betty. Please don't mention my speaking of it to you."

"But I want a second team to play against, and a good one at that. I'd give a lot for the soph.o.m.ores to beat the other cla.s.ses at hockey."

"Hurrah for the soph.o.m.ores," remarked Betty. "I can't get used to our being soph.o.m.ores, Selma, but isn't it nice not to be freshmen any longer?"

"Yes, though we _were_ such unusually fine ones!" Selma chuckled. "We're a good deal of a mob yet, but not like the freshman bunch. Were we really like that last year?"

"I suppose so. Well, Selma, I don't know what to say about the hockey proposition. I'm pretty sure that Mother thinks hockey too rough.

Perhaps not exactly that, either; and I did like to play last year occasionally, just on the side. Possibly, if it is just as a sort of subst.i.tute, I might do it. I'm a full-fledged G. A. A. and ought to help out where I can, oughtn't I?"

"It's your duty to be a good soph.o.m.ore, too."

"I remember how seriously I took everything last year," said Betty, "and it was sensible. But I'm going to join anything I like this year; and if it doesn't work, all you have to do is to stop."

"Not to break up a team, though, Betty."

"Oh, no. I didn't mean that, and I like to do anything pretty thoroughly, too. All right, I'll see about it."

"'Lo, Betty," said some one else.

Selma and Betty were mounting the steps of the school now, near the entrance, where pupils were going in and groups of others stood about.

This was Mathilde Finn, who detached herself from one of the groups and came toward the two girls. "Bye," immediately said Selma, whisking into the building as some one pushed open the heavy doors before her.