Tommy stared at her idiotically, his mouth gaping.
"Thank you, but only Mrs. Eustice could really give us an answer," said Bob, coming to the rescue of his stricken chum. "Betty, will you deliver our message and perhaps you can telephone the answer?"
"No Shadyside girl is allowed to telephone Salsette Academy," announced
Miss Prettyman, with grim satisfaction.
Betty had not known of this rule, but she realized it was undoubtedly in existence.
"We'll let you know some way," she promised.
Still pursued by Miss Prettyman's icy glare, the wretched boys backed out of the room and the unfortunate Tommy walked into a handsome china jardiniere with disastrous results. There was a sickening crash, a ladylike scream from Miss Prettyman, and Betty heard Bob's voice in a tone of suppressed fury: "You've done it now, you idiot!"
Bobby giggled, of course, but Miss Prettyman, who had followed the boys into the hall ("I think she thought we'd steal something on the way out," Bob confided later to Betty) maintained her poise.
"I'm—I'm awfully sorry," faltered the culprit. "I hope it wasn't very expensive. I'll pay Mrs. Eustice, of course, or buy her another one—"
"That jardiniere happened to be imported from Nippon," remarked Miss Prettyman coldly. "I doubt if it can ever be replaced. It has stood in that exact spot for seven years. But then, naturally, our callers are accustomed to leaving a room gracefully. I'm sure I—"
The agonized Tommy tried to get in a word, failed, and took a step toward the door. His foot caught in the rug, and for one dreadful moment he thought he was doomed to create another scene. As he recovered his balance, Ada Nansen came down the stairs.