“Yes, Madame.”
“Because of what I said at prayers?”
“Yes, Madame.”
“You are a new girl. Did you not know of the rule that all girls must keep off the river until it is pronounced safe by Mr. Pease?”
“I did not know of the rule. And I did not think that I was doing wrong when I went on the ice this morning,” returned Nancy, quietly.
“I believe you, Miss Nelson. You are excused. Don’t do it again. I can’t afford to have any of my girls drowned—especially one who stands as well as you do in the weekly reports,” and the little woman patted her on her cheek and smiled.
“You may go skating this afternoon, if you wish, and if you are perfect in your recitations, as I suppose you will be,” continued Madame Schakael. “Wait, my dear! Here are two letters for you. They are both from Mr. Henry Gordon’s office, and I presume they are from him. I make it a rule never to open letters from the parents or guardians of my girls; other letters, you understand, must be scrutinized unless the correspondence has already been arranged for.”
She passed the wondering Nancy two businesslike looking envelopes with the card printed in the corner of “Ambrose, Necker & Boles.”
“Thank you, Madame,” said the girl, and hurried away to her first class with the letters fairly burning a hole in her pocket.
There would be no opportunity before the first intermission—at 10:30 o’clock—to look at their contents.