“Yes, Sir,” said a little girl with smooth, brown hair, rising promptly and leading the way inside. “He’s probably in the office, but if he isn’t I’ll find him for you.”
“Ah,” said Doctor Rhodes, who was in his office, rising from his chair, “the five young ladies from Lakeville, I take it?”
“Yes,” returned Mr. Black.
“Most of our flock arrived day before yesterday,” said Doctor Rhodes, shaking hands all around, “but you are still in very good season. And what is better, you are just in time for dinner. If Miss—Ah, I don’t remember your name—”
“Jane,” supplied the little girl.
“Ah, yes, Miss Jane. If you will inform Mrs. Rhodes she will show the young ladies their rooms so they can—er—wash up a little if necessary. You, Mr. Black, may come with me.”
Mrs. Rhodes appeared presently and the girls were introduced. They didn’t like Mrs. Rhodes. She was a tall, very slender, very upright old woman in an unnatural state of tidiness, with evenly-waved white hair parted exactly in the middle, a wrinkled white skin and glittering black eyes set in narrow slits. Her unsmiling mouth, too, was a narrow slit. Her expression was severe. She was really rather a frosty and blood-curdling old lady to look at but on this occasion she proved a good guide, surprisingly nimble for her years. She led them to the second floor, through a wide arch that led to a long corridor. There were doors down each side of this and a window at the end. Here she paused to consult a note book that she had taken from her pocket.
“Number twenty. Miss Vale, Miss Bedford in here. Miss Tucker, Miss Mapes in twenty-two. Miss Bennett in twenty-four with Miss Isabelle Carew.”
“Oh!” gasped Mabel, “couldn’t I stay with the others?”
“No,” returned Mrs. Rhodes. “I have arranged for you to room with Miss Carew of Kentucky. I’m quite sure you will like her.”