"I have just come to St. Dorothy's," she replied, in a low voice.
"Oh, dear!" The girl with the freckled face dropped a mock courtesy. "Oh, dear, what a privilege for St. Dorothy's! I say, girls, isn't it a prim little darling? Good-by, dearie! we'll meet very soon in the presence of the great Miss Forester. Au revoir, love, au revoir."
The girl, with the rest of her companions, hurried across the grounds, and Molly returned to her station in the hall. The rest of the St. Dorothy girls now appeared, dressed in hats and jackets.
"Come," said Katie, "we are late; we must make a rush for it. I promise to steer you through the shoals. Why, what's the matter? You look worried."
"I ought not to be," answered Molly, "but I'm afraid I am. A girl who was passing the house called out to me in a very disagreeable voice. Oh, of course I ought not to mind. Is she a Redgarth girl?"
"Has she sandy hair and a freckled face?" inquired Kate.
"Yes; she is a plain girl."
"I know her—her name is Matilda Matthews. If I were you, Molly, I wouldn't take the least notice of her. She doesn't belong to our house, and is never likely to. You'll have little or nothing to do with her, unless by chance you happen to attend the same lectures; she can make herself very disagreeable—none more so. I don't believe she is a high-principled girl, and I should recommend no friend of mine to have anything to do with her. Of course, you won't, and she isn't worth a thought. Now, come on; we must run, or we'll be late."
A moment later, and the girls entered the wide quadrangle of the school. They entered the enormous hall, where four hundred girls were assembled for prayers. Molly, to her joy, found her place by Kate's side, and after a moment of dazed wonder, had courage to raise her brown eyes to look around her. Hundreds of other eyes seemed to meet hers. In multitudes, however, is safety. Molly could not be afraid of all the eyes. Soon a voice at the other end of the hall arrested her attention. She saw a solitary figure standing on a platform. The figure was that of a tall and noble-looking woman in the prime of life. There was a look about the whole face which immediately arrested the attention of those who gazed at it. The eyes had a kindling light in them, the mouth was shrewd as well as kindly, the brow was very full, broad, and of noble proportion; but it was the voice which awoke that quick enthusiasm with which Molly herself was full.
"That is Miss Forester, the principal of the school," whispered Kate to her companion.