CHAPTER VIII
THE MADAME
The omnibus lurched through a wide gateway where two huge stone pillars almost hid a tiny lodge, the latter aglow with lamplight. Pinewood had once been a famous private estate, and a Vice-president of the United States had lived in it.
But for many years it had been a girls’ school, and Madame Schakael had come from Germany to be its principal. As a little girl she had attended the school herself, Nancy knew, and she had afterward—after being an instructor in college—married a German professor and gone to his country.
He was now dead and Madame had come back to her native land and to her much beloved preparatory school.
The door of the lodge opened and Nancy saw a very neat looking woman with a dark dress and gingham apron standing in the doorway. She waved a hand and her cheerful voice reached the ears of the wrangling girls in the ’bus.
“Welcome, young ladies! Are you all right? Are there any new ones there?”
“We’re all sophs but one greeny,” called one of the girls. “Glad to see you, Jessie Pease.”
“Thank you, Miss. The new one is to go to the Madame at once. That is the order. Let her go before supper.”