“Get their tickets and see them aboard the train. Speak to the conductor about them, Samuel,” she said to the under gardener.
“Indeed I will, Madame,” replied the good fellow.
As they rattled down to the lodge gates, the door of the little cottage opened and Jessie Pease hurried out in her night wrapper.
“Wait! Wait, Samuel!” she called, and held up a little basket. “You’ll be hungry on the train, girls. Some chicken sandwiches, and olives, and odds and ends that I managed to pick up after the Madame telephoned to me about your trouble.
“I hope it isn’t so bad as it looks, Nancy. And take care of her, Janie—that’s a good lassie!”
“Oh! aren’t folks just good!” exclaimed Nancy to her chum, as Samuel drove on. “It just seems as though they do like me a little.”
“Huh! everybody’s crazy about you, Nance! You ought to know that,” returned Jennie. “I don’t see what a girl who’s made so many friends needs of a family—or of money, either. Don’t worry.”
But Nancy wiped a few tears away. Never before had she appreciated the fact that here at Pinewood Hall she had made many dear and loving friends. “Miss Nobody from Nowhere” was just as important as anybody else in the whole school.
Samuel drove almost recklessly through the streets of Clintondale in order to make the night train that stopped but a moment at the station. They were in good season, however, and the man put them, with their bags and the basket, aboard.
It would not have paid to engage sleeping berths at that hour. The two girls had comfortable seats, and of course, were too excited to wish to sleep. Jennie proceeded to open the lunch basket at once, however.