Part 3 (2/2)
”Now, where has she gone?” demanded Bess. ”She's just like a flea!
You put your hand on her, and there she isn't!”
But Laura was back in a moment. She brought with her, and dangled before their wondering gaze, a suit of paint-stained overalls, jumper and all, that evidently by their size belonged to Henry, the boatkeeper and man of all work of Lakeview Hall.
”I hid 'em the other day,” declared the red-haired girl. ”You never know what may happen, or how such garments as these may come in use.”
”But, for pity's sake, Laura!” gasped Nan, ”what are they for?”
”Don't they make just the uniform needed for a cowgirl? What say? I bet she rides astride, and these old overalls will remind her of home, at Rustlers' Roost, and all that, you know.”
The shrieks of laughter that answered this proposal threatened to bring some of the teachers and so spoil the fun altogether.
Finally, however, Amelia Boggs got the crowd into line, and the parade marched out of Room Seven into the corridor.
Room Eight was almost directly opposite the one occupied by Nan and Bess; but Amelia led the procession the full length of the hall and returned again before rapping a summons on Rhoda Hammond's door.
”Oh, yes! In a minute,” cried a small voice from inside.
But Amelia waited on no appeal of this character. She found on turning the k.n.o.b that the door was unlocked. She flung it open and stalked in, the other girls trailing two by two behind her.
”Oh, dear me! what do you want?” gasped Rhoda.
She had removed and hung up in the clothes-closet the beautiful furs, dress, and hat. Her bag was open on the couch, but it seemed to contain no kimono, and the Western girl remained half hidden behind the portiere that hung before the closet.
”What do you want?” she repeated, gazing in wonder at the tall figure of the Mistress of Ceremonies.
”We are just in time,” said Amelia behind her mask, and in a supposed-to-be-sepulchral voice. ”The sawney is all prepared to don her costume. Hither, slave! and see that she dons the costume quickly, for we must haste.”
”The slave hithers,” said Laura jovially. ”Here you are, Rambunctious Rhoda from Rawhide Springs. Put 'em on.”
She held out the overalls and jumper to the surprised new girl, who hesitated to take them.
”_Hic jacet!_ The varlet refuses 'em!” hissed the red-haired girl.
”Goodness, Laura,” whispered Nan. ”That means 'here lies'--and n.o.body is telling stories.”
”She's got her Latin and Shakesperean English most awfully mixed,”
giggled one of the other girls.
”And 'varlet' is the wrong gender, anyway,” observed Bess.
”Silence!” commanded the Mistress of Ceremonies. ”Silence in the ranks. Will she not don the costume?”
”Put 'em on!” commanded Laura again, shaking the painter's suit before the hesitating Western girl.
”She would better,” said Amelia threateningly, ”or I will call to your aid all these, my faithful followers, who have already been through the fiery trial.”
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