“They may do as they see fit,” she responded with determination. “I will entertain whom I wish. If they do not choose to come, then they have the alternative. Good-night! Don’t worry about me, Miss O’Day. I’m learning to take care of myself.” Then she put up her lips to be kissed again.
The following morning the preceptress did not appear at breakfast, as Azzie had predicted. The dinner hour, according to the custom for all holidays, had been postponed until two o’clock. Devotional exercises were held in the chapel at ten o’clock. Mrs. Schuyler’s place on the rostrum was vacant.
“She’s been in her room all morning,” giggled Min to Landis on their way to their rooms.
“I hope Azzie will see the error of her ways before dinner time,” Mary Wilson said. “I should not like to miss a Thanksgiving dinner.”
As though Mary’s words had power to call her, Azzie at that moment came down the corridor, swinging herself lazily along.
“This is the sixth time I’ve started for Mrs. Schuyler’s room,” she began at the sight of the girls. “But the moment I reach the door, my heart drops down into my shoes, and it’s so heavy, I can’t move my feet an inch.”
“Taking scalps is not all the fun it’s supposed to be, is it?” asked Mame Welch.
“The taking is all right. The taking back is what hurts my feelings.” Azzie sighed deeply as she began to unwrap the paper about the false fronts. “I don’t know whether I’ll have the courage to lay them inside her door or not. I’d put it off until to-morrow if it wasn’t for the Thanksgiving dinner. Well, there’s luck in odd numbers.”
“To me there would be something too subtle, too sly, in slipping them in at the door.” The remark was from Landis.
As usual, Mary Wilson was the one quick to reply. “Then Azzie will not do it if there be but a suspicion of subtleness about it. Do you not know her well enough, Landis, to know when she is jesting and when she is not?”