"How can I possibly tell you, Miss O'Hara?" she replied. "You are a tall girl. Perhaps you are seventeen, although you look more."
"My dears," said Mrs. Freeman, answering the looks on all faces, "your young companion's extraordinary conduct can only be explained by the fact that she has never been at school before. I am going out to the garden to speak to her. You girls will now go as usual to your separate schoolrooms and commence study.""Oh, lor, miss, you're too good, but there's that bell again; I must run this minute.""No, not very. The younger girls were fond of me, and Dorothy Collingwood was nice."
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Dorothy was beginning to whisper to her companion that all their excitement was safe to end in smoke, when the door at the farther end of the dining hall was softly pushed open, and a head of luxuriant nut-brown curling hair was popped in. Two roguish dark blue eyes looked down the long room—they greeted with an eager sort of delighted welcome each fresh girl face, and then the entire person of a tall, showily dressed girl entered."Oh, she's telling a story," whispered Olive under her breath. She settled herself contentedly to listen."The first thing to do is to appoint a committee," she began.
"No, no—do forgive me!""No. You are to take off that unsuitable afternoon costume you are now wearing, and put on a neat print dress for your morning work.""Please wait one moment, Mrs. Freeman."