By and by Nan slipped out of her clothes, braided her hair in the dark, and got into bed long before the retiring bell rang. When Bess came in, her chum made a pretense of being asleep, and in her heart thought: “More deceit!”
But Nan felt she could not listen to Bess’ chatter on this night.
She arose early in the morning, after an uneasy night, and while the steam was knocking its usual morning tattoo in the radiators (the girls said Mrs. Cupp never reported that annoyance to the engineer, for it served to make even the “lazybones” of the school rise promptly) Nan sat by the window, through which the cold light stole, and began a reply to her mother’s letter. She had written a page and a half when the gong sounded and Bess sleepily crept out of bed.
“Hul-lo!” Bess yawned.
Nan could merely nod to her.
“Oh, gracious goodness me!” cried Bess. “This is the last day you’ve got to keep your mouth closed, I should hope! I never did see such a stubborn girl in my life before! If I had been as dumb as you have been this week, I know I should never be able to speak again.”
Nan smiled at this; though to tell the truth, even that was hard work. To leave beautiful Lakeview Hall, and all the girls whom she loved, and the teachers, including Dr. Beulah and Professor Krenner!
Tears blinded her eyes. She could no longer see to write. She did not want to stain the pages with tears, for then “Momsey” would know just how bad she really felt. She jumped up, bathed her eyes with cold water, and finished her own toilet.
“You look just as though you had hay-fever, Nan,” Bess grumbled. “But as you can’t have that at this time of year, I believe you have been crying.”
Her chum did not admit this by either word or look. She put on her cap and coat and ran out for some exercise before breakfast. Bess never indulged in such a thing. She always dressed so slowly that she did not have time for a walk or a run before the breakfast bell sounded.