A NEW PUPIL ARRIVES
But after all there was no mystery concerning the time when Eleanor
Burgess was to arrive at the seminary, for she appeared, bag and
baggage, on the second day after the visit which Mrs. Martin and
Virginia had made to the supposedly deserted house.
The physician’s wife was eager to get away from the wet, cold, Boston
winter and into the golden, warm climate of southern Italy, and as she
had no friend whose companionship she more enjoyed than that of the
overweary mother of Eleanor Burgess, she was happy indeed when she heard
that her dream-plan was to become a realization and that, within a
fortnight.
Mrs. Warren accompanied her husband from Boston on his return trip, two
days later, and after having taken Eleanor to the seminary, the
luxurious automobile, with its non-skid tires that defied snow-banks,
bore the three older people away to the city and left a girl whose heart
was filled with mingled sentiments of gladness and sorrow.
It would be a long, long while, she knew, before the mother, who was
dearest in all the world to her, would return. But she was more content
as she pictured what that mother would look like after three months of
carefree existence, just resting and basking under sunny Italian skies.
“What wonderful friends the Warrens are to us,” the girl thought as she
lifted the knocker of quaint design. The door was opened by the
pleasant-faced Delia, and Mrs. Martin, chancing to leave her office at
that moment, held out both hands to the newcomer.
“Dear Eleanor,” she said, “how glad I am that you came today. Little
Miss Rose is impatient to be away, but she wanted to remain until she
could explain to you about her babies, all of whom she loves, as she is
sure that you will, also. But first you must go to your room.”
The principal noted an eager brightening of the girl’s face as she
looked up inquiringly. “Are you wondering with whom you are to room?”
Mrs. Martin asked.
“I was hoping that it might be with Virginia Davis, but I suppose that
someone else is with her.”
Mrs. Martin had planned giving Eleanor the Tower Room, which was still
unoccupied, but she recalled its remoteness, and fearing that Eleanor
might be lonely there, she at once decided to go to Virginia and ask if
she would like the new pupil to take Winona’s place until that maiden
might return, if, indeed, she came back at all.
Excusing herself, Mrs. Martin went to one of the classrooms and stepped
within. After consulting a moment with Virginia, she returned, saying
with her kindly smile, “Your wish is to be granted.” Then to Delia,
“Will you go with Miss Burgess to the southeast corner room?”
Virginia could hardly wait until the class was dismissed to hasten
upstairs and greet her new roommate. Eleanor was standing at the window
which overlooked the sea when she heard the door open. She turned
quickly and walked toward the girl who had entered, hands outstretched.
“Isn’t it all wonderful,” she exclaimed, “and just like a story in a
book? Mother is to have the rest and change that she needs, and I am to
have my opportunity to learn to write and draw, and be independent at
the same time.” Then leaning over impulsively she kissed Virg as she
said sincerely. “It was mighty nice of you to let me be your roommate.”
“Eleanor,” Virginia said, “I’m just looking forward to our free
evenings. We both like the same things and that, I am sure, is the
secret of true comradeship.”
That afternoon the new teacher of the primary pupils began her duties,
and she reported, when she returned to Apple Blossom lane, that she just
adored the babies (there were five of them, and the oldest was seven,
while the youngest was but four and a half), and if only she could have
a letter from her mother every other day, at least, she was sure that
she would be the happiest girl in all the school.
At the afternoon free period Virginia threw Winona’s warm-colored
blanket over her head, for it had been a parting gift from the Indian
maid to her schoolmate of many years, and, with a bundle of papers under
her arm, she followed the path that was shoveled deep between snow
banks, until it reached the shelter of the grove, and there, in many
places, were pine needles on the ground that was but slightly covered
with snow.
Miss Torrence was eagerly awaiting the editress of The Manuscript
Magazine. “Herein lies our only hope,” Virginia said when her English
teacher had led her in to the sunny little den where she spent many
hours planning lessons for the girls, reading or writing. Now and then a
poem by Miss Torrence appeared in a current magazine, to the delight of
her girls.
The teacher smiled as she took the bundle of papers.
“Three stories and two poems, you say; and from them we may choose
material for our first Manuscript Magazine? Thank you for bringing them.
I will let you know tomorrow, Virginia, what I think of them.”
The girl, as was her wont, stopped a moment in the sunny living room to
chat with the dear little old lady who liked nothing better than to have
one of the pupils from the seminary tell her of their merry or busy
life. “It gives me something pleasant to think over for quite a time,”
she often said. But best of all, she liked to have Virginia visit with
her, and then their talk was not of the school, but of the desert, and
the little old lady’s eyes would glow as she would retell, time and
again, the story of her journey across the plains with her father and
mother in a prairie schooner. And Virginia would listen, at each
telling, as though it were the first time she had heard it.
“She is such a nice girl,” the old lady would invariably tell her
daughter, when Virg was gone. “I like the others, but some way I like
her best.”
“Virginia is unselfish. She is sincerely interested in whatever
interests others, and few girls are that,” Miss Torrence would reply.
At that same time Kathryn Von Wellering had called a meeting of her
“Exclusive Three.”