The two girls presently wandered off alone, along the beautiful beach, until Hilary noticed that Cathalina was especially quiet, and that in their explorations the afternoon had slipped away.
“Getting homesick? So’m I. We must be hungry. Come on; it’s a lucky thing at school that meals come three times a day. Mother says that school girls are always hungry.”
“If I’m homesick, therefore, I’m hungry? Maybe I am! Anyway let’s go and see if any more girls have come. It seemed to me, Hilary, that some of those children on the beach were too young even for the Academy. Do you suppose they were visitors?”
“No; that was one thing I didn’t know, and I thought I asked about everything there was to know about Greycliff. They take a few very special girls for the grades and have teachers for them. The catalogue doesn’t say anything about it because, of course, they don’t go in for that. How I know,—there was one on the train coming up and her older sister and I talked. She said it began by not wanting to separate some sisters, and so there may be, perhaps, a dozen little girls here. I’ve been wishing my sister June could come. But I don’t suppose they could spare us both and then there would be the money.”
Savory smells, with rattle of dishes and silver, announced to Cathalina and Hilary, as they slipped in by the side entrance, having taken time to walk through the grove, that dinner was not far off. Soon the gong rang, and coming from different rooms, or running from various directions on the campus, came girls tall or short, plump or slim; girls rosy and girls pale; girls laughing and talking, with arms around old chums, and girls who had just arrived and were depressed with the strangeness of it all and their loneliness in the midst of so much good comradeship. Smiling faces and sober ones; pretty summer dresses, or traveling suits; feet neatly dressed in low shoes or high shoes; sashes, belts; round necks, high necks; hair done high, hair done low, hair down backs in braids, or curls, with bright ribbons,—an endless variety might be seen among the buzzing company that poured in the dining room door and stood behind the chairs at the tables. At a tap of Miss Randolph’s bell, all were seated and remained silent when her strong, beautiful voice asked a blessing. Then the hum began again.
“One couldn’t feel lonesome here,” remarked Hilary.
“I almost do,” replied Cathalina.
“Wait until you get started on the eats. I’m ’most starved.”
“Poor Hilary! O, I’m all right, but I had a pang thinking of Mother and Father at home.”
“Don’t think,” advised Hilary.