There were the teachers also,—Mrs. White and Professor Howe and Madam de Cartier—and, yes—even Miss North, austere and dignified and unapproachable as she was, would be missed out of the little world; a world she had grown to love very dearly, despite its limitations, its frequent vexations.
"Mercy! you look as if you'd lost your last friend, Annabel," Ruth Biddle commented from her seat by the window, where she was doing her best to stop a runner in a silk stocking.
"I have, I'm afraid—or will," Annabel answered dolefully. "Do you realize that in just fifteen days we shall be saying good-by to these old walls, forever—you and I? I didn't think it was going to be so hard, Ruth. Doesn't it break you all up when you think of it? Do you relish the idea of other girls having this room next year—hanging their things in our closets; planning feasts and frolics behind barred doors while we pass on to the ranks of 'young women?' The idea doesn't appeal to me as much as I thought it was going to."
Ruth bit off her thread and regarded the room a moment in silence.
"Wonder where they'll keep their provisions," she said, eyes toward the box couch which had secluded many a staple article. "Do you suppose they'll find the refrigerator, and know enough to make black curtains for the transoms?"
A gleam shot from Annabel's roguish eyes to Ruth's.
"Let's put them on," she said. "Write a letter and will them our secrets. We can hide it in the refrigerator."
The refrigerator—a loose brick discovered one day just under the window on the outside wall—had proved a boon to Annabel and Ruth. By the least bit of digging from the inside a passage had been made, large enough to accommodate a bottle of milk, a pint of ice cream or any other delicacy that required cold storage. It had been necessary to cut the wall paper, and the plastering, of course,—a daring thing to do, but the girls had felt no great qualm of conscience.
An elaborate calendar covered the aperture. It had been observed many times by visitors that the calendar hung low, but Annabel was always quick to remark that there was no other place, the room, being full to overflowing with pictures, pennants, etc. A truth which could not be gainsaid.
"Splendid!" Ruth cried, with more enthusiasm than she was wont to show, and got out paper and pencil immediately.