“I’ve precious little to unburden,” said Marta. “Miss Tudor began as if it were a social call. She asked me about what sort of a summer I had had, then seemed very much interested in my description of your home and the lovely mountain cabin, lodge, I mean. She asked me how you and I became acquainted, how we got along together, if we belonged to the same sorority with Eleanor and Suzanne, and who my special friends in the school were.”
“Foxy Miss Tudor!” Ann remarked.
“Yes; I began to smell a mouse when she began to inquire about my friends. It was something about rooming, of course. Then she asked me if I would be willing to make a change to some other suite or a room, if the present arrangement did not seem best. She said, too, before I answered, that you ‘expressed yourself as willing to give up the suite.’”
“Aha!—angelic Miss Tudor!”
Marta peered through the gathering darkness to see if Ann were losing her mind. “Why all this enthusiasm about our dean?” she inquired.
“I may tell you some time,” replied Ann.
“That was all. I told her that I did not care much, and if it were easier all around for her to change us, I did not mind.”
“Marta, you are an old dear, and I shall not worry a mite about what Miss Tudor is going to do. Let’s go home, look over our lessons and go to bed. I think that it was a shame to post lessons and send us to our teachers the opening day. They never did that before. They must have a new system and are speeding up. We do lose a lot of time; and they had all our books ready.”
“Just the same, I don’t believe that we shall recite, on account of the new students in all the classes. But Ann, why did you want me to come right to you after seeing Miss Tudor? What has been going on?”
“If you don’t mind, Marta, I’ll wait, until whatever is to be done is done, and then tell you.”