“I have their pictures—drawn by myself—in my room,” said Molly, solemnly.
“Come, Jolly Molly!” warned the tall senior behind them, “take the freshies along with you to the madam.”
Molly marched briskly in the lead toward the rear of the great hall. Beth saw several girls looking over the balustrade above; but they popped back in a hurry, laughing, when they saw themselves observed. There was, however, from somewhere above, the hum of voices.
It was after the supper hour. There must be, Beth thought, a recreation room on the second floor where the pupils gathered in the evening.
Molly was knocking with gloved knuckles on a door at the rear of the hall. A brisk voice said, “Come in!” and the girls entered a very plainly furnished, yet pleasant room. It was a contrast to the luxurious entrance hall of the school; but everything was good and very comfortable.
There was revealed, when the door swung open, a lady in black, with a white lace collar on her old-fashioned, full-skirted gown and a white cap on her iron-gray curls. She was sitting in a high-backed chair at a small desk, on which was an account book. She stood up promptly, in quite a military fashion, and looked at the trio of youthful visitors through her eyeglasses.
She was a small, slight woman, in reality; yet she stood so straight, and looked so stern and unbending, that she seemed to Beth to be at least six feet tall.
“Good evening, young ladies. Miss Granger, I am glad to see you back. How did you leave your aunts?”
“All seven of them, Madam?” asked Jolly Molly, roguishly. “Collectively, do you mean, or shall I give their individual symptoms?”
“I see you are determined to wear the cap and bells,” said Madam Hammersly; yet she smiled. “I fancy all seven are reasonably well.”