"We will not leave New York until to-morrow if you do not feel perfectly all right," announced Jane with authority.
"Oh, but please, yes," begged Helen. "I am so glad to get to the big school. I like New York, but it is not like the college with all big grounds----"
"That is just what I say, Miss Allen," put in Miss Jordan as she smoothed the cushions they were piling around Helen. "You young ladies have been having a great time, running around and feeding on electives, as we say at college when we choose our own studies. Are you sure you feel all right to travel, Helen?"
"Oh, yes, indeed. It was nothing. I was so happy--with all the new things that I forgot to eat my breakfast. I shall be all ready when the other girls are. And I am so grieved to give trouble." Helen was now quite herself again. The ammonia had done the work of restoring the temporarily impeded circulation. But Jane and Judith were not satisfied that all the story of her sudden illness had been told. It was decidedly strange that a girl should faint, right in her own room, and in the middle of the day. Still, both were too wise to press questions just then. The very best plan to be put in operation, they were deciding silently, was for all hands to be off to Wellington that very afternoon.
There was some bustling about, but Miss Jordan helped, and in spite of the confusion the baggage was finally shipped successfully and on time.
"Little old New York!" exclaimed Jane merrily, pressing her personal good bye on Miss Jordan. "You have been very good to the Wellington Refugees. And we thank you."
[CHAPTER XII--WELLINGTON EN MASSE]
"Pray tell me, pretty maiden, are there any more at home like you?" This came from the spreading oak, while from the group of young pines, in a remote corner of the campus the answer wafted in vigorous girlish voices:
"There are a few, and pretty too-to-too, to-oo-oo-oo."
It was the call to the incoming horde, on their first day at Wellington.