“Your mother’s maid evidently does not know the rules of Pinewood Hall,” said Jessie Pease, severely. “If your hats do not stay on without all that fluff, I’ll find you a cap to wear,” and she laughed.
There were other contraband things, too. Each girl had to give up her keys and allow the woman to unpack her trunks. Such clothing and other possessions as were allowable, or necessary, were placed to one side for transportation to the owner’s dormitory.
Some girls had whole trays full of gay banners, pictures, photographs, and the other “litter” that delight the heart of a boarding-school miss when she can decorate her dressing-case and wall. Of course, the freshies only had their home pictures and little silver or glass keepsakes and toilet sets.
“Now, my plump little pigeon,” said Jessie Pease to Nancy, as she laid out the school dresses which Miss Prentice had bought for her with the money Mr. Gordon had supplied, “you seem nicely fixed for wearing apparel—and such plain, serviceable things, too. Not many of my girls come here so very sensibly supplied.
“And now, where are the pretty things—in your bag?”
“My old clothes are in the bag, please,” replied Nancy, bashfully.
“Oh! but where are the pictures of the folks at home? And the little knicknacks they gave you when you came away?” said Jessie Pease, her fair face all one big smile.
“There—there aren’t any folks, please,” stammered Nancy.
“What, dear?” gasped the woman, sitting straighter on her knees and staring at her.
“I am an orphan, and I have no friends, ma’am,” stammered Nancy, in so low a voice that nobody else could hear.