Many of the bedroom windows were wide open now; the more or less tousled heads of girls in all stages of dressing appeared, and disappeared again, at these windows. They called back and forth to each other; laughter rang happily from many of the dormitories; the waking life of the great school seemed, to the lonely girl, very charming indeed.
Why, among all these girls there must be some who would be friendly! This thought helped Nancy a great deal. She entered the building and joined the beginning of the line at the breakfast-room door, much encouraged.
“Look at these hungry young ones,” exclaimed Corinne Pevay, coming down the broad stair from the West Side, like a queen descending to give audience to her subjects.
“Morning, Corinne! Morning, Miss Pevay!” were the cries of greeting.
“‘Good morning, little myrtle-blossoms! Let me tell you mommer’s plan!’” sing-songed the older girl. “‘Do some good to all the folkses’—Hullo, Carrie!”
“‘Good-morn-ing-Car-rie!’” sang the crowd of girls at the dining-room door as the captain of the East Side of the Hall appeared—Carrie Littlefield.
There was a burst of laughter, and Corinne held up her hand admonishingly.
“Not so much racket, children!” she said. “There! the gate is opened, and you can all go in to pasture. Little lambkins!”
Nancy was carried on by the line to the open door. The pleasant-faced woman who had stood in the doorway of the lodge the evening before, was here, and she tapped Nancy on the shoulder.
“Go to the lower tables, my dear. You are a new girl, and all your class will be down there. What is your name?”