“Miss O’Day might—not like to be bothered. Besides, you do not know her very well. I’ll send Nancy.”
With that she disappeared.
As the gaslight in the bedroom was not satisfactory Elizabeth went into the sitting-room or study, as the students were accustomed to call it, to finish her dressing. Nancy came to the door just as Elizabeth put on the last touches.
“We’ll be late,” she exclaimed. “I think it’s fun to go early and meet all the strangers. Judge Wilson and his friends will be here if the train was on time at Ridgway.”
Elizabeth caught up her fan and handkerchief and started forth. Her attention was claimed by the curious fan Nancy carried.
“It is odd, isn’t it?” exclaimed Nancy, unfurling it. “It is hand-carved. You know the Swedes are famous for that kind of work. This is quite old. My grandfather made it for my grandmother when they were sweethearts over in Sweden.”
Elizabeth looked her surprise at this statement. Her companion noticed her expression.
“You knew, of course, that I was of Swedish birth!”
“No, I did not. I knew that you made your home with Miss Wilson’s family. I took it for granted that you must be a relative.”
“Not the least bit,” was the response, given without a show of embarrassment. “I’m merely a dependent. My father was a Swedish minister, and worked among our people near the Wilson home. When he died, we were left with nothing to live on. Mother did sewing for the Swedish people. I was very strong and quite as able to work as she. So I went to live at the Wilson home where I helped with the little children and also went to school. I grew to love them, and they seemed to really care for me. When I finished the high school, Mrs. Wilson sent me here. I’m to be a teacher after I graduate at Exeter. I always count the Wilson home mine. Each summer I go back there and help with the children while Mrs. Wilson takes a vacation.”