The young teacher smiled as she went out. Ever since she was a small girl starting to kindergarten, this thoughtful mother had asked, “Are you sure you have a clean handkerchief, daughter?”
The wind caught at the umbrella the moment it was raised, just beyond the shelter of the grove, and it had to be closed again, but, although there was a fine mist-like snow in the air, it was not wet enough to drench her. Gathering the flying folds of her cloak closely about her, Miss Torrence hastened to the basement entrance of the school, and soon appeared in the upper corridor and went at once toward the door of the principal’s office. Two girls stood in front of the blackboard on which was written in big white letters, “Honor Roll.”
“Good evening, Miss Torrence.” One of them spoke in an unusually friendly manner.
“Good evening, Kathryn,” was the kindly given reply. “Are you and Anne searching for your names? She who will, can be on the Honor Roll, you know.”
“Oh, no indeed! We weren’t expecting to be on it. We were rather surprised, though, to find that Barbara Wente’s name is here.”
“It was put up today. I am so glad.” The young teacher smiled again and entered the office from which, when the door was momentarily open, the girls could hear the hum of voices.
“It’s going to be a long session, I’m thinking,” Kathryn said in a low voice. “Now that we are sure that Miss Torrence is here, let’s go at once to Pine Cabin.”
Anne Petersen hesitated. She lifted her hand at that moment to adjust her hair and the glint of the blue stones caught her eyes.
“Very well, lead the way,” was what she said.
Kathryn went upstairs to her room and Anne accompanied her. Earlier in the evening she had left there her warm cloak and tam. “Wait until we are sure the games are started in the gym,” Kathryn warned, “then, with the teachers all occupied, we can slip out of the side door without attracting attention.”