As they finished breakfast, a waitress handed Dorothy a note.
“Mrs. Pangborn wants to see me,” said Dorothy, rising.
Then Tavia’s hope, that the morning’s gossip had escaped the ears of the school principal, vanished.
“Don’t mind if she asks queer questions,” Tavia remarked, as Dorothy left. “You know those new girls have to be kept busy.”
CHAPTER IX
THE INTERVIEW
Mrs. Pangborn was sitting in her pretty little office when Dorothy entered. On her desk were some late, purple daisies, or iron-weed, and their purple seemed to make the white-haired lady look regal, Dorothy thought.
After exchanging greetings the principal began with her rather painful discourse.
“I have sent for you, Dorothy,” she said, “on account of some rather surprising stories that have come to my ears. I can scarcely credit them. At the same time I must make sure that these rumors are groundless. Did you—take charge of that lunch counter at the new depot, this morning?”
“Why, yes; I did,” replied Dorothy, coloring to the eyes, “but I only did so to help the young girl who has charge of it. She had to leave, and called to me to go over there for a few minutes.”