Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte were also eager to know if the two who were so dear to them were comfortable, satisfied with their surroundings, and looking forward to a pleasant school year. Until thus assured, they could not set out on the journey, for the trip had been planned as a means of rest and recuperation for Mrs. Dainty. How could she rest, or enjoy the trip unless she were sure that Dorothy was absolutely content and happy? If Dorothy were happy, Nancy was sure to be, because the two were inseparable, and their tastes nearly identical.
The two girls were a bit tired of looking from the window at the flying scenery, and Nancy expressed the wish that they had brought something with them to read.
"I did," Dorothy said, with a laugh, and she drew Vera's letter from her blouse.
She read it aloud, while Nancy leaned against her shoulder, enjoying it with her.
"I wish you had come the first day that school opened, but I'll be on the lookout for you and Nancy. My! But we'll have fun and a plenty of it this year at Glenmore," she concluded, signed her name, and then added a postscript.
"Patricia, and Arabella are here, both—no, each—oh, which should I say? Anyway, they're acting just outrageous, and already they've earned the name that the girls have given them. They call them 'The Freaks,' and truly the name fits. They speak of Patricia as 'the one with the queer clothes,' and of Arabella as 'the medicine-chest.'
"She's taking more pills, I do believe, than she ever did at home, and she wants folks to notice that.
"The idea! I'm glad there are two nice girls coming from Merrivale, although you'd never think Patricia ever saw the place, for she talks of nothing but 'N'York.' My brother Bob always laughs about my long postscripts. It's lucky he can't see this one!
"Lovingly,
"Vera."
Dorothy folded the letter, again placing it in her blouse, and then for a time they watched the passengers.