“Goodness! The poor thing,” sighed Stella, commiseratingly.
Evidently, the girls considered the principal’s mother a good deal of a Tartar. Beth herself had an opportunity for judging almost as soon as they arrived at Rivercliff, regarding the important person in question.
A tall, masterful girl stood at the main entrance to the great school building to welcome the arrivals.
“Just report yourselves at the office, Stella and Brownie and Jolly Molly. Who’s the freshie?” she asked, halting Beth.
“Beth Baldwin,” she was told.
“All right. You for the madam’s room.”
“I’ll see to her, Miss Teller,” said Molly, very respectfully, to this senior. “I’m going with Miss Baldwin to the madam.”
“And who’s this?” demanded the monitor, stopping the hatless Cynthia.
“I am going to take her to the madam, too,” whispered Molly. “She’s a girl looking for work as parlor-maid or waitress or something.”
“We-ell. You know this isn’t the entrance for them. And madam is dreadfully particular,” said Miss Teller, doubtfully. “Come back and tell me if she’s to stay, Molly.”