She gave up the problem as too difficult, but, greatly cheered by Madeleine’s cordiality, she met her friendly advances half-way, and when they reached the school they felt really well acquainted. Together they went to the principal.
Miss Frelinghuysen was an imposing-looking lady with sharp features and sharp eyes. She welcomed them with effusion, called each “my dear child,” and expressed hope that each would be happy and contented at the school.
“May we room together, Elizabeth and I?” Madeleine asked.
Miss Frelinghuysen appeared to hesitate.
“Do you wish it, my dear?” she asked of Betty.
“Yes,” replied Betty, hastily, concluding that a girl she knew to be friendly was preferable to any utter stranger; “yes, I should like it.”
“Very well, then you may, my dear.”
“You’re a trump,” said Madeleine, squeezing Betty’s arm as they went away; “I was so afraid you wouldn’t room with me.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You might feel too grand. You’ve just come into a lot of money, they tell me.”