Irrepressible laughter broke out around the table. Even Mrs. Cupp smiled grimly.
“I fancy you started the birthday presentation, Laura,” she said. “Let us have no more of it.”
When she had passed along Laura Polk leaned forward to whisper shrilly across Nan to Bess:
“Have a care, Bess! I think Mrs. Cupp suspects you. Don’t try to smuggle any of that apple sauce up to Room Seven, Corridor Four, in your stocking!”
Of course this was all very ridiculous, and, taken in the right spirit, the introduction of Nan Sherwood’s chum to Lakeview Hall, would not have been so bad. This was really a mild initiation to the fraternal companionship of a lot of gay, fun-loving girls.
But Bess had a high sense of her own dignity. At home, in Tillbury, because her father was an influential man, and her family of some local importance, nobody had ever treated her in this way. To be an object of the ridicule of strangers is a hard trial at best. Just then, to Bess’ mind, it seemed as though her whole school life at Lakeview Hall must be spoiled by this opening incident.
Nan felt for her friend, for she well knew how sensitive Bess was. But she knew this was all in fun. She could not help but be amused by the red-haired girl’s jokes. There wasn’t a scrap of harm in anything the exuberant one did or said. There was no meanness in Laura Polk. She was not like Linda Riggs.
Had it not been for Nan, Bess would never have found her way to Room Seven, Corridor Four, she was so blinded with angry tears. The room they were to occupy together was up two flights of broad stairs, and had a wide window overlooking the lake. Nan knew this to be the fact at once, for she went to the open window, heard the soughing of the uneasy waves on the pebbly beach far below, and saw the red, winking eye of the lighthouse at the mouth of Freeling Inlet.
“This is a lovely room, Bess,” she declared, as she snapped on the electric light.
Bess banged the door viciously. “I don’t care how nice it is! I sha’n’t stay here!” she cried.