“A Merry Christmas to Miss Ashton the Merciful
from her grateful
Never Say Die Club.”
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHRISTMAS IN THE ACADEMY.
Marion, two days before Christmas, was once more left alone in her room. The Rock Cove cousins had given her the most cordial invitation to go home with them for the vacation, but she had declined. In doing so, she had a half-acknowledged feeling that she was to suffer just penance for her misdeeds at Belden, and a dread of what unknown trouble she might meet at Rock Cove. This Eastern world was so different from the whole-hearted, kindly one she had left behind her, that instead of wonting to it, she grew timid, diffident of herself, even among the girls, and shy about venturing abroad. So she made her mind up bravely to stay where she was, and spend her vacation in study.
Miss Ashton fully approved; for since Marion’s sickness with her cold, she had shown an inclination to cough, and was often hoarse in the morning. A stay by the seaside in winter would be to run a risk. It might be dull for her to remain, but she loved her books, and there was plenty for her to do in order to keep up with her advanced classes; besides, there were twenty of the pupils whose homes 184 were so distant they could not go there, and return, without taking more time than the vacation allowed, so they, also, were to remain, and Marion, though dull, need not be lonely.
All the teachers but Fräulein Sausmann were to be absent, and to her care Miss Ashton had to commit the young ladies during the vacation.
The wheels of the carriage that took her away from the academy had hardly ceased to be heard by the anxious listeners there, before Marion’s door was opened just far enough to admit the Fräulein’s good-natured face.
Never had her ample head of light hair looked so large, her blue eyes so blue, her nose so retroussé, or her thin lips so thin, to Marion, as now. Before she had time to welcome her, the Fräulein said in her high-pitched voice,—