“But she won’t tell on me, she won’t, dear old Danesbury,” said the girl; “she couldn’t be so hard-hearted, the precious love, particularly as curiosity happens to be one of her own special little virtues! Take a kiss, Danesbury, and now, a you love me you’ll be merciful!” The girl flitted away, and Miss Danesbury turned to Hester, whose face had changed from red to pale during this little scene.
“What a horrid, vulgar, low-bred girl!” she exclaimed with passion, for in all the experiences of her short life Hester had never even imagined that personal remarks could be made of any one in their very presence. “I hope she’ll get a lot of punishment—I hope you are not going to forgive her,” she continued, for her anger had for the time quite overcome her shyness.
“Oh, my dear, my dear! we should all be forgiving,” exclaimed Miss Danesbury in her gentle voice. “Welcome to Lavender House, love; I am sorry I was not in the hall to receive you. Had I been, this little rencontre would not have occurred. Annie Forest meant no harm, however—she’s a wild little sprite, but affectionate. You and she will be the best friends possible by-and-by. Now, let me take you to your room; the gong for tea will sound in exactly five minutes, and I am sure you will be glad of something to eat.”
Miss Danesbury then led Hester across the hall and up some broad, low, thickly-carpeted stairs. When they had ascended two flights, and were standing on a handsome landing, she paused.
“Do you see this baize door, dear?” she said. “This is the entrance to the school part of the house. This part that we are now in belongs exclusively to Mrs Willis, and the girls are never allowed to come here without leave. All the school-life is lived at the other side of this baize door, and a very happy life I assure you it is for those little girls who make up their minds to be brave and good. Now kiss me, my dear, and let me bid you welcome once again to Lavender House.”
“Are you our principal teacher, then?” asked Hester.
“I? oh dear, no, my love. I teach the younger children English, and I look after the interests and comforts of all. I am a very useful sort of person, I believe, and I have a motherly heart, dear, and it is a way with little girls to come to me when they are in trouble. Now, my love, we must not chatter any longer. Take my hand, and let us get to your room as fast as possible.”
Miss Danesbury pushed open the baize door, and instantly Hester found herself in a different region. Mrs Willis’s part of the house gave the impression of warmth, luxuriance, and even elegance of arrangement. At the other side of the door were long, narrow corridors, with snow-white, but carpetless floors, and rather cold, distempered walls. Miss Danesbury, holding the new pupil’s hand, led her down two corridors, and past a great number of shut doors, behind which Hester could near suppressed laughter and eager, chattering voices. At last, however, they stopped at a door which had the number “32” written over it.
“This is your bedroom, dear,” said the English teacher, “and to-night you will not be sorry to have it alone. Mrs Willis received a telegram from Susan Drummond, your room-mate, this afternoon, and she will not arrive until to-morrow.”
However bare and even cold the corridors looked, the bedroom into which Hester was ushered by no means corresponded with this appearance. It was a small, but daintily-furnished little room. The floor was carpeted with green felt, the one window was hung with pretty draperies, and two little, narrow, white beds were arranged gracefully with French canopies. All the furniture in the room was of a minute description, but good of its kind. Beside each bed stood a mahogany chest of drawers. At two corresponding corners were marble washhand-stands, and even two pretty, toilet tables stood side by side in the recess of the window. But the sight that perhaps pleased Hester most was a small bright fire which burnt in the grate.