From the business thoroughfare, Miss Burkham led her charges to the residence street. Here conditions were the same. The elegant houses bore the marks of the flood. Trees were uprooted. Lawns which but a few days before were things of beauty, were now but heaps of refuse, or hollows filled with water.
Doors and windows stood open wide. Delicate, cultivated women had arrayed themselves in overalls and were scraping the mud from their homes.
As they made their way eastward, Robert Vail hurried down a side-street to meet them.
"I started for school the instant I could," he explained to Miss Burkham. "I did not know how bad conditions were, but I expected they could not be good.
"I have a tally-ho and horses, but we could not get beyond Fairview Street. South Street is a mere chasm. The horses could not have crossed there. I did reach Miss Alden and Miss Richards. My man took them back home while I came in."
Hester grasped his arm. "Auntie—is Auntie all right?"
"Fine as silk. She was concerned about you until we satisfied her that seminary girls could not be gotten rid of so easily. It takes more than a flood—" He spoke lightly to the girls and then turned to Miss Burkham. "Our housekeeper said I should fill up the tally-ho and bring the girls there. The buildings at school will not be fit to live in for some days. We'll take care of eighteen or twenty until you arrange matters."
A feeling of relief came to the preceptress. "You have taken a great responsibility from Doctor Weldon and me," she said. "We shall never be able to thank you. As to the girls, Hester and Helen, of course must go; also the Fraulein, for I must not allow the girls to go alone."
She turned to the group about her, and selected the number which would fill the tally-ho.
"You girls will go with the Fraulein and Mr. Vail, and remain until we send you word to return. Berenice, Violet, Edith and I will return to school."