When they entered the schoolhouse, they were surprised to find the door of the eighth grade closed and locked. On it a note was pinned, which Adele wonderingly read aloud:
“Pupils of 8A please report at Mr. Dickerson’s office.”
The girls looked at each other in amazement. Surely something must have happened to their beloved Miss Donovan. They found the principal in his office looking very grave. He smiled when he saw their solemn, almost frightened faces.
“Young ladies,” he said, “it is not so dreadful as all that, though I must confess I am very much troubled to know just what I ought to do.”
Then he explained that Miss Donovan had been called to her home in a neighboring town and that she had wired back that her elderly mother needed her care, and therefore would be unable to return that term.
The girls were truly grieved to hear this, and impulsive Betty Burd exclaimed, “Why, Mr. Dickerson, how can we get on without Miss Donovan?”
“We will not decide yet,” the principal said kindly. “I have sent to the city to see if another competent eighth-grade teacher can be procured, but it is late, and the classes everywhere are started. However, it is possible that one may be found. Report here to-morrow morning and I shall then be able to tell you what we will do.”
The next morning at nine the girls were again waiting in Mr. Dickerson’s office, and a few moments later he appeared.
“Well, young ladies,” he said, “I have been unsuccessful, and so the Board has suggested that you go to Dorchester to finish this term’s work. You would have to go there next term, anyway, so perhaps that is the best solution of our difficulty.”
As soon as the girls were again under the elm-tree, Adele faced them with glowing eyes. “Of course I am very sorry to lose our Miss Donovan,” she said. “We all love her dearly, but since we can’t have her, I am really glad that everything turned out just as it has, because, instead of going to Dorchester, perhaps we may all be able to go—guess where?”