“Miss Dotty already knows about it,” said one of the other girls. “Melvina had it on the table showing it to us at theory class and Miss Dotty didn’t see it and put her hand on it.”
“She was sick,” added another girl solemnly. “She was real sick, all at once. We wanted to practice ‘What to Do for Nausea’ on her but she didn’t give us time.”
“She is in her room now,” concluded the first girl with a passionate devotion to detail. “She is in her room with a hot-water bottle and an ice bag and a bottle of camphor.”
“Well,” I said abruptly, feeling very much as if I were going to imitate Miss Dotty, “take that—er—kitten outdoors at once, Melvina.”
“Yes, Miss Keate,” said Melvina dutifully. “Do you have second watch in the south wing to-night, Miss Keate?”
“Certainly.”
“My‑y‑y!” Melvina sucked in her breath. “Something will be sure to happen. May I help you, Miss Keate?”
“Good gracious, Melvina!” I cried, revolted. “Do you mean to say you would want to be there if anything did happen?”
“Oh—no,” she said reluctantly, eyeing the kitten fondly. “But something will happen. Soon. It is a sign.”
“Melvina!” I must have spoken firmly for Melvina wasted no time in going about her burying and the rest of the girls hastened on down to supper.