She was not naturally a timid girl; but all this was strange to her. She faced a row of closed doors upon the side of the corridor opposite the dining place. One of these might be the door of the principal’s office; but which one Nancy could not guess.
For five minutes she waited. Then suddenly she was aware of a tall and very dark girl coming down one of the great staircases.
This newcomer must have been eighteen or nineteen—a “big girl” indeed in Nancy’s eyes. And such a pretty girl! The “greeny” had never in her life seen so pretty a girl before.
She was dark, her eyes were black, her hair was banded about her head, and her lips were so red that they might have been painted. But her color was natural—cheeks as well as lips. A flashing, cheerful countenance she turned on Nancy, and she said, before she reached the foot of the stairs:
“You’re a new girl, I am sure. Hasn’t anybody spoken to you? Where do you want to go?”
The mere tone of this girl’s voice seemed to change the atmosphere that had so depressed Nancy. That lump was in her throat again, but she could smile at the serene beauty.
“I was told to see Madame Schakael—before having dinner. But I don’t know where to find her,” confessed Nancy.
“Oh, that’s easy,” cried the other girl. “I’ll show you. What is your name, please?”
Nancy told her.
“I am Corinne Pevay,” said the other, pronouncing her name in the French manner. “I am a senior. I hope you will be happy here, Nancy Nelson.”