E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 24168-h.htm or 24168-h.zip:
(https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/1/6/24168/24168-h/24168-h.htm)
or
(https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/1/6/24168/24168-h.zip)
A LITTLE MISS NOBODY
* * * * * *
BOOKS FOR GIRLS
By Amy Bell Marlowe
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
THE OLDEST OF FOUR Or Natalie's Way Out
THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM Or The Secret of the Rocks
A LITTLE MISS NOBODY Or With the Girls of Pinewood Hall
THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH Or Alone in a Great City
WYN'S CAMPING DAYS Or The Outing of the Go-Ahead Club
FRANCES OF THE RANGES Or The Old Ranchman's Treasure
THE GIRLS OF RIVERCLIFF SCHOOL Or Beth Baldwin's Resolve
THE ORIOLE BOOKS
WHEN ORIOLE CAME TO HARBOR LIGHT
WHEN ORIOLE TRAVELED WESTWARD
(Other volumes in preparation)
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS--NEW YORK
* * * * * *
A LITTLE MISS NOBODY
Or
With the Girls of Pinewood Hall
by
AMY BELL MARLOWE
Author Of
The Oldest of Four, The Girls of Hillcrest Farm,
Wyn's Camping Days, Etc.
Illustrated
[Illustration: "GOODNESS ME! YOU'RE A PERFECT MISS NOBODY."
Frontispiece (Page 98).]
New York
Grosset & Dunlap
Publishers
Made in the United States of America
Copyright, 1914, By Grosset & Dunlap
A Little Miss Nobody
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Miss Nobody from Nowhere 1
II. The Boy in the Millrace 14
III. On the Way To Pinewood 23
IV. Bearding the Lion 29
V. Nancy's Curious Experience 39
VI. The Unrivaled Scorch 47
VII. First Impressions 57
VIII. The Madame 65
IX. Cora Rathmore 74
X. Who Is She, Anyway? 84
XI. On Clinton River 99
XII. The First Advance 112
XIII. It Proves Disastrous 127
XIV. Heaps of Trouble 138
XV. A Great Deal Happens 150
XVI. It Comes to a Head 162
XVII. A Rift in the Clouds 176
XVIII. Better Times 185
XIX. The Races 202
XX. The Freshman Election 212
XXI. Senator Montgomery 222
XXII. Is it a Clue? 235
XXIII. Back To School Again 247
XXIV. The Thanksgiving Masque 260
XXV. Getting on 274
XXVI. Mr. Gordon Again 280
XXVII. The Man in Gray Again 293
XXVIII. Scorch "On the Job" 302
XXIX. All About Nancy 310
XXX. No Longer a Nobody 319
CHAPTER I
MISS NOBODY FROM NOWHERE
The girls at Higbee School that term had a craze for marking everything
they owned with their monograms. Such fads run through schools like the
measles.
Their clothing, books, tennis rackets, school-bags--everything that was
possible--blossomed with monograms, more or less ornate.
Of course, some girls' initials offered a wider scope than others' for
the expression of artistic ideas; but there wasn't a girl in the whole
school who couldn't do _something_ with her initials, save Nancy.
"N. N." What could one do with "N. N."? It was simply impossible to
invent an attractive-looking monogram with those letters.
"N. N.--Nancy Nelson--just Nobody from Nowhere," quoth Nancy to Miss
Trigg, the teacher and school secretary who, despite her thick
spectacles and angular figure, displayed more of a motherly interest in
Nancy than anybody else at Higbee School.
Miss Prentice, the principal, never seemed to be interested in Nancy.
The latter had nobody to "write home to," either good or bad about the
school--so the principal did not have to worry about her. And it didn't
matter whether Nancy's reports showed "improvement" or not--there was
nobody to read them.
Miss Trigg was also a lonely person; perhaps that was why she showed
some appreciation for "Miss Nobody from Nowhere." Sometimes in the long
summer vacation she and Nancy were alone at the school. That drew the
two together a little. But Miss Trigg was a spinster of very, very
uncertain age--saving that she couldn't be young!--and it was the more
surprising that she seemed to understand something of what the
sore-hearted young girl felt.
"The really great people of this world--the worth-while people--have
almost all been known by one name. There were many Cæsars, but only one
_Cæsar_, who crossed the Rubicon, and in his 'Commentaries' said: 'All
Gaul is divided into three parts.' One never hears what Cleopatra's
other name was," pursued Miss Trigg, with her queer smile. "Whether
Isabella of Spain--the Isabella that made the voyages of Columbus
possible--had another name, or not, we do not inquire. How many of us
stop to think that the married name of the English Victoria--that great
and good queen--was 'Victoria Wettin,' and that for the years of her
widowhood she was in fact 'the Widow Wettin'?
"The greatest king-maker the world ever saw--the man who turned all
Europe topsy-turvy--was known only by one initial--and that your own,
Nancy. Here! I will make you a more striking monogram than any of the
other girls possess," and quickly, with a few skilful strokes of her
pencil, Miss Trigg drew a single "N" surrounded by a neat, though
inverted, laurel wreath.
"Now your monogram will not conflict with Napoleon's," she said, with
one of her rare laughs; "but it is quite distinctive. It stands for
'Nancy.' Forget that 'Miss Nobody from Nowhere' chatter. You may be
quite as important as any girl in the school--only you don't know it
now."
That was what really troubled Nancy Nelson. She was too cheerful and
hopeful to really care because she couldn't entwine the two initials of
the only name she knew into an artistic bowknot! It was because "N. N."
really meant nothing.
For Nancy didn't know whether the name belonged to her or not. She knew
absolutely nothing about her identity--who she was, who her people had
been--of course, it was safe to say she was an orphan--where she had
lived before she came to the Higbee Endowed School when she was a little
tot, who paid her tuition here, or what was to become of her when she
was graduated.
And Nancy Nelson, now approaching the end of her last year at the
school, was more and more persuaded that she should know something about
herself--something more than Miss Prentice, or Miss Trigg could tell
her.
Years before Nancy had listened to the story of her earlier life as it
was whispered into her ear when she and Miss Trigg were alone together,
just as though it was a story about some other little girl.
One September day, just after the fall term had opened, a gentleman
brought a tiny, rosy-cheeked, much beruffled little girl to Miss
Prentice and asked the principal of Higbee School to take charge of the
little one for a term of years--to bring her up, in fact, as far as she
could be brought up and taught at that institution.
This gentleman--who was a lawyer rather well known at that time in
Malden, the small city in which the school was situated--could only say
that the little girl's name was Nancy Nelson, that she had no parents
nor other near relatives, and that he could assure the principal that
the tuition and other bills would be paid regularly and that Nancy would
have a small fund of spending money as she grew.
Who she really was, where she had lived, the reason for the mystery that
surrounded the affair, the lawyer would not, or could not explain. He
had left Malden soon afterward, but was established in Cincinnati--and
he met all Nancy's bills promptly and asked each quarter-day after her
health. But he showed no further interest in the little girl.
As for Nancy herself, she remembered nothing before her appearance at
the school. And that was not strange. She was a kindergartner when Miss
Prentice accepted the responsibility of training her--the very youngest
and smallest girl who had ever come to Higbee School.
Miss Prentice was too firm a disciplinarian to be a very warm-hearted
woman. Save for Miss Trigg's awkward attempts at motherliness, and the
surreptitious hugs and kisses of certain womanly servants about the
school who pitied the lonely child, Nancy Nelson had experienced little
affection.
She was popular in a way with her fellow pupils, yet there had always
been a barrier between her and the rest of the school. She was the
refuge of the dull scholars, or of the little ones who needed help in
their lessons; but Nancy never made a real _chum_.
It was not the girl's fault. She was heart-hungry for somebody to love,
and somebody to love her. But circumstances seemed always to forbid.
A new girl was scarcely settled at Higbee before somebody pointed Nancy
out to her as a girl who was "peculiar." Sometimes the story of Nancy's
coming to the school, and of her circumstances, were sadly twisted. She
was often looked upon as a combination of Cinderella and the Sleeping
Princess.
However that might be, it set Nancy in a class by herself. Girls came
and went at Higbee. Some took the entire course and were graduated. But
none save Nancy remained at the school from year's end to year's end.
Miss Prentice saw to it that the girl had a sufficient supply of neat
and serviceable dresses. She had all that she could possibly need, but
little that she really _wanted_.
When her spending money was increased moderately, Nancy was able to buy
herself the little trifles that persons like Miss Prentice never realize
a girl's longing for. Nancy's private expenditures occasioned even Miss
Trigg to say that she was "light-minded" and would never know how to
spend money.
They did not take into consideration that Nancy had nobody to give her
the little trifles so dear to every growing girl's heart. She never had
a present. That is, nothing save some little things at Christmas from
some of the smaller girls whom she had helped. Miss Prentice discouraged
the giving of presents among the girls at Higbee. She said it occasioned
jealousies, and "odious comparisons" of family wealth.
Miss Prentice was a very good teacher, and she exerted a careful
oversight over both the girls' health and conduct. Most of the girls had
their particular friends, and even the few other orphans beside Nancy in
the school had those who loved and cared for them.
But here was a heart-hungry girl with absolutely no apparent future. The
end of her last year at Higbee was approaching and neither Nancy, nor
Miss Trigg, nor Miss Prentice herself, knew the first thing about what
was to "be done with her."
Curiosity about herself--who she was, what was in store for her, and
all--sometimes scorched Nancy Nelson's mind like a devouring flame. She
kept a deal of it to herself; it was making her a morose, secretive
girl, instead of the open-hearted, frank character she was meant to be.
Nancy's future as a girl and woman was in peril.
She scarcely believed that the name she was known by was her own. Some
time before she had begun to refer to herself as "Miss Nobody from
Nowhere." It was continually on her mind.
So Miss Trigg's suggestion about the monogram was not entirely
satisfactory to Nancy. It is all right to have brave thoughts about
doing great deeds in the future; but--supposing there _is_ no future?
That's the way it looked to Nancy Nelson. June was approaching and all
the other girls of the graduating class were exchanging stories of what
they were to do, where they were to go, and all about their future
lives. But Nancy couldn't tell a single thing that was going to happen
to her after breakfast the day following graduation.
Of course, Miss Prentice was not bound to keep her a minute longer than
her contract called for. Nothing had been said by the lawyer in whose
hands Nancy's fate seemed to be, regarding his future intentions. He had
acknowledged the school principal's last letter at Easter, and that was
all.
A girl who has spent all her days--almost--in a boarding school must of
necessity possess some small amount of independence, at least. Although
very young, Nancy felt perfectly able to start out into the world alone
and make her way.
Just _how_ she should earn her living she did not know. But she had read
story books. Sometimes girls of her age were able to help housewives do
their work, or help take care of little children, or even be
parcel-wrappers in big city stores.
Of course she could not remain at the school. There would be nothing for
her to do here. And Miss Prentice carried her pupils no farther than the
grammar grades.
Some of the other girls would begin in the autumn at other and more
famous schools--college preparatory schools, and the like. Nancy loved
books, and she hoped for a college education, too; dimly, in some way,
she hoped to find means of preparing for college. But how? That was the
problem.
One noon, as Nancy filed into the long, cool dining room, Miss Prentice,
who often stood at the door to review the girls as they filed before
her, tapped Nancy on the shoulder.
"My room after luncheon, Miss Nancy," said the principal, severely.
She always spoke severely, so this did not disturb the girl. But the
latter was so anxious about her own affairs that she flushed deeply and
only played with her food.
Both of these things did not trouble Nancy. In the first place, she was
very pretty when she blushed, having an olive complexion and dark, crisp
hair which she wore in two plaits down her back. And she was so plump
that the loss of luncheon wasn't going to hurt her.
She was glad when the bell rang for the girls to rise and listen to Miss
Trigg's murmured "thanks for meat." Then she ran eagerly over to the
principal's cottage and found Miss Prentice waiting for her.
"I have heard from Mr. Gordon," began that lady.
"My guardian!" gasped Nancy, clasping her hands.
"I do not know that he _is_ your guardian," responded Miss Prentice,
with an admonitory look. "You must remember that he merely pays your
fees here."
"Well!" breathed Nancy, trying to contain herself within bounds.
"He asks me to keep you here this summer as before," continued the
principal.
"Oh!"
"He has made no other plans for tiding you over the summer," went on
the very practical lady. "He objects to entering into arrangements with
any other person for the brief time between your graduation here and
your matriculation at Pinewood Hall in September----"
"Oh, Miss Prentice! Pinewood Hall!" cried Nancy, unable to restrain
herself.
She knew all about Pinewood Hall. It was one of the most popular
preparatory schools in the Middle West. Nancy had never even dreamed
that she would be allowed to attend such a select institution.
"I do wish you would restrain yourself, Nancy," said the principal.
"They will think at Pinewood that you have had no proper training here,
at all."
"Oh, I beg pardon, Miss Prentice," cried the girl. "I really will try to
be a credit to you if I go there."
"I hope so," observed the principal, grimly, and nodded as though she
thought this terminated the interview.
"But, Miss Prentice! Is--is that all he says?" queried Nancy, anxiously.
"That you will remain here--if I agree, which I shall; Miss Trigg will
look after you--until fall, when you will receive your transportation to
Clintondale and will go there, prepared to continue your studies."
"And--noth--ing--more?" sighed Nancy, hopelessly.
"Indeed! What more could you wish?" demanded Miss Prentice, tartly. "It
seems to me you are a very fortunate girl indeed. Pinewood! There isn't
another girl in the class whose parents can afford to send her to such a
fashionable preparatory institution."
"I know, Miss Prentice. I ought to be grateful, I suppose," admitted the
girl, wearily. "But--but I _did_ so hope Mr. Gordon would write
something about me--about who I am--about what I am going to be in
life----"
"I declare!" snapped the principal. "I call this downright ingratitude,
Nancy Nelson. Suppose I wrote what you say to Mr. Gordon? And he should
in turn transmit my report to--to the people who furnish the money for
all this----"
"That's just it! that's just it, Miss Prentice!" wailed the girl,
suddenly bursting into tears. "_Who_ furnishes the money? _Why_ do they
furnish it? Oh, dear! what have I done that I am treated like a colt to
be broken instead of like a girl?"
Miss Prentice was silenced for the moment. She looked down upon the
girl's bowed head, and upon the young shoulders heaving with sobs, and
a strange expression flitted for the moment across her grim face.
Perhaps never before had the principal of Higbee School looked into
Nancy's heart and seen the real tragedy of her young life.