“Breakfast, of course,” explained Miss Mason. “I got up at six to copy this theme. It’s now almost seven—there’s the rising bell this minute. As for Vespers, now you speak of it I do remember that you promised to call for me, but I went to the Westcott for dinner yesterday and to Vespers right from there, without ever thinking of our engagement.”
Eugenia sank down limply on the disheveled bed. “Then I’ve slept since three o’clock yesterday,” she announced tragically, “in my kimono, on top of my couch, you know. I never heard of such a thing, did you?”
The Thorn certainly never had, and she was much impressed.
“I always supposed that rich girls like Miss Ford just thought of clothes and dances and traveling and a good time generally,” she confided to Betty. “I never thought one of them would wear herself out helping poor little me. You’ve got to be pretty tired to sleep like that. I shall always feel differently about rich girls after this.”
And she kept her word. The Thorn’s sharp point was dulled. Instead of being a faultfinder and an agitator she threw her influence, which for some obscure reason was considerable, on the side of harmony and good-fellowship.
“I’ve told the third floor to stop spying on Esther Bond,” she informed Betty. “I’m convinced myself that she studies out loud, and for some queer reason doesn’t want it known. She’s awfully secretive. That Helena Mason goes up to see her quite a lot. You’d think she’d be proud of knowing a prominent girl like Miss Mason, but she smuggles her in and out as if she was a poor relation. All the same, I guess the way she acts is her own affair. She hasn’t said much, but she must know she’s being watched, and I’ve advised them all to stop it. She looks as if she had troubles enough without that. I’ve been reading up about ghosts, and they do seem to be pretty much made up, specially all those seen by several people at one time. Did Miss Dick’s school ever find out about theirs?”
Betty shook her head. “The poor little girl who got the most frightened by it has been terribly ill. They thought last week that she was going to die, but she’s much better now.”
“Some other girl must be feeling pretty bad, if it was done for a joke,” said the Thorn.
“Yes,” agreed Betty, “but Miss Dick thinks it was an accident—and little Shirley’s strong imagination, of course. I hope she’s right. And thank you for taking Miss Bond’s part. We don’t want our silly ghosts to hurt any one’s feelings or make any girl sorry she came to Morton Hall.”