Then a louder voice—
"Miss Marlowe wants Peggy Forrest."
"Here, Piggy, hurry along"—and a fat girl was propelled through the crowd.
"Jane, my dear, I thought you were never coming," heralded a new arrival.
"Miss Marlowe is a brick; we are to have thirty-three."
Squeals of delight and the retreat of three inseparables.
Judith began to feel that she would drown amidst all the noise, but Nancy had a tight grip of her arm again, and at last it was her turn at the door.
Judith never lost that first picture of Miss Marlowe in her study, a pleasant, sun-flooded room, low bookcases, the gleam of brass, colorful pictures, a cosy fire, and Miss Marlowe herself, grey-eyed, ruddy-haired, and low-voiced. The quiet voice began to work a magic, and after a few minutes' chat Judith felt less like a lost soul and more like a normal girl again. Then Nancy was summoned from without.
"Judith is to be in number twenty-five, Nancy; will you take her up and see that she is settled? Her trunk is there already; it came this morning. You can be very busy at once, Judith"—and Miss Marlowe's smile was friendly and comforting.
Nancy squeezed Judith's hand impulsively as they left the room to make way for other girls.