The girls talked a great deal of Mrs. Haddon and her trouble as they put
on their skates and slowly skated back to the Hall.
"It must be dreadful," Laura was saying thoughtfully just as the three
towers of the school loomed up before them, "not to have enough to eat.
Just think of it, girls, to be hungry--and not have enough to eat!"
No wonder this condition of affairs seemed unusually horrible, in fact
almost impossible to luxury-loving Laura, whose father was one of the
richest and most influential men in rich and influential North Bend. To
Laura it seemed incredible that every one should not have enough and to
spare of the good things that, rightly used, go to make happiness in
this strange old world. She had never known what it was to have a wish
that was not gratified almost on the instant.
"Yes, it must be awful," Billie answered soberly, in response to Laura's
exclamation. "And I'm sure," she added decidedly, "that I won't be able
to enjoy another good meal until I know that those three poor little
kiddies and Mrs. Haddon have had all they could possibly eat--for once,
at least."
"What do you mean?" they asked, wonderingly.
"We'll pack a basket," planned Billie, growing excited over the great
idea which had just that minute occurred to her. "We'll put everything
in it that we can possibly think of, chicken sandwiches and a bottle of
current jelly, a thermos bottle of hot coffee and another of milk for
the children----"
"Say wake up, wake up," begged Laura, irreverently. "Where do you
suppose we are going to get all this stuff anyway? It's too late to go
to town----"
"Who said anything about going to town?" Billie interrupted impatiently.
"I'm going straight to Miss Walters and tell her all about the Haddon
family and ask her to let us raid the kitchen and make up the basket
ourselves. We can pay for the things," she added, as an afterthought.
"It's a bright idea--but it takes nerve," said Laura slangily. "Miss
Walters may not like the idea of feeding the countryside."
"I'm not asking her to feed the countryside," Billie retorted, adding
comfortably as a picture of Miss Walters, white-haired, blue-eyed and
sweet, rose before her: "I'm sure she will let us do it just this once."
For Miss Walters, strict though she was at maintaining discipline in the
school, was nevertheless generosity and kindness itself to every one
about her.
"But," said Laura, uttering one last protest, "I don't believe Mrs.
Haddon would accept anything that looked like charity. She's too proud."
"We won't take any chances on her being too proud to accept it," said
Billie decidedly, adding with a chuckle: "We'll do the way the boys used
to do on Hallowe'en, ring the bell and run."
They had no other chance to talk, for in a minute they were surrounded
by about a dozen of their classmates who all began scolding them at once
about running away and demanded to know where they had been, so that
plans for the Haddons were pushed temporarily into the background.
Laughing and shouting to each other the girls took off their skates and
scrambled up the long terraced hill that led to Three Towers.
If the Hall and its surroundings were beautiful in the summer time, it
was even more attractive in the winter. The ivy that covered the
green-gray stone of the building was now frosted white with snow and
ice, and this, catching the ruddy gleam of the afternoon sun, gave the
Hall the appearance of a great, sparkling jewel.
The three towers which gave the school its name made the place seem like
some castle of old, and the surrounding trees and shrubbery, heavily
coated with snow and icicles, gave to the old building just the air of
mystery that it needed.
The beauty of the familiar place struck Billie afresh, and she stopped
short suddenly and gazed up at it with loving eyes.
"Isn't it lovely to have a place like this to come home to?" she said,
as the girls looked at her inquiringly, "when you are tired and cold
and----"
"Hungry," finished Laura, giving her a shove. "Giddap, Billie, you're
slowing down the works."
"Slang again," sighed Vi, plaintively, as Billie obligingly "giddaped."
"If I should tell Miss Walters----"
"You would never live to tell another tale," prophesied Laura, amid a
gale of laughter from the girls. "Two sneaks and tattletales are
enough," she added significantly, as she caught sight of Amanda Peabody
and Eliza Dilks walking a little ahead of them.
"I wonder where Connie and Nellie have kept themselves," said Billie, as
she with the other girls crowded through the wide door of the Hall.
"They were up in the dorm, cramming for the exams when I saw them last,"
said a tall girl at Billie's elbow. She had evidently not been with the
girls on the lake, for she wore no coat or hat and she carried a book
under each arm as though she also had been studying.
"Oh, hello, Carol!" greeted Billie, putting an arm about the tall girl
and sweeping her toward the stairs. "So you've been grinding away as
usual when you ought to have been out getting some good fresh air. My,
you look as pale as a ghost."
For the tall girl, so studiously inclined, was none other than Caroline
Brant, who had been such a good friend to Billie upon her arrival at
Three Towers Hall the year before. The girls were all fond of Caroline,
in spite of the undeniable fact that she was one of those usually
despised students commonly known as "grinds."
"You know I don't skate," Caroline said in response to Billie's
accusation. "And I never could see why people prefer freezing their toes
and noses to staying comfortably indoors."
"You're an old lamb," said Billie with a squeeze. "But there are lots of
things that you never will see!"
As Caroline had predicted, the chums found Connie Danvers and Nellie
Bane in the dormitory, curled up uncomfortably on the bed, heads bent
disconsolately over two thick and bulky history books.
When the door burst open and the chums swung into the room, skates slung
over shoulders, eyes bright and cheeks glowing from exercise, the two on
the bed flung away their books and looked despairingly at the newcomers.
"Great heavens, here they are back already," cried Connie, running her
hands wildly through her fluffy hair. "And I haven't learned more than
five dates so I can say them straight."
"And that's just five more than I have learned," cried Billie gayly,
dropping her skates in a corner and flinging herself on the edge of the
bed. "Come closer, girls," she added, lowering her voice to a mysterious
whisper while Nellie and Connie wriggled over to her. "I would whisper
in thine ear. We have met with an adventure!"