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"Oh, don't bother me about that!" said Patricia, and Arabella, peering at her through her goggles decided that it would be wise to do no more correcting. "I don't think Miss Fenler is fair," said Patricia, "for she marked my history paper only forty-two, and I just know it ought to have been higher than that.
"Well, if Miss Fenler had been here she'd have had forty fits," cried Vera Vane, "but, Marcus, what they don't know won't worry them, and you needn't tell them." "And Marcus, you can forget all about the racket before you get home," said Elf. "Shore, Miss, I's got a powerful short mem'ry. Gid 'ap!" "Dorothy Dainty cheered as loud as any of us," said Arabella Correyville.
Classes were in session when they reached Glenmore, so Miss Fenler went with them to the pretty room that was to be theirs, a maid following with suit-cases, the colored man bringing up the rear with one trunk, and a promise to return on the next trip with the other. A class-room door, half open, allowed a glimpse of the new arrivals.
Miss Fenler lit the gas, and it was just as well that the culprits dared not open their eyes, for the face that she turned toward them was not pleasant to see. She was desperately angry. "What does this mean?" she cried shrilly. Vera and Elf breathed heavily, as if soundly sleeping. "You're not asleep!" she declared, "and I insist that you answer me. Again I ask, what does this mean?"
As assistant, Miss Fenler, small, and wiry, did all that was required of her, and more. She had never been appointed as a monitor, but she chose to do considerable spying, so that the pupils had come to speak of her as the "detective." One of her many duties was to see that the carryall was at the station when new pupils were to arrive.
"To be sure, there are but two days more, Friday and Saturday, but I should not be surprised if some one started something, so as to make the week complete." It certainly had been a record week for petty annoyances, and to cap the climax on Friday, after lunch, Miss Fenler waited in the hall, near the door that led from the dining-room. She felt that she must speak to Patricia.
Sometimes it was "Carbale," then it was "Corbille," but never once had she managed to call it Correyville. "Well, the cat is in the kitchen now, and you must look out for her. Keep her in for a few days until she feels that this is home, and then she will stay," Miss Fenler said, and returned to her account-books.
And Betty and Valerie will get off Scot free, for 'The Fender' couldn't see them under the bed, and of course we'll not tell that they were there." She did not know that when Betty and Valerie had reached their own room they found that in their haste to arrive at the "feast" they had left the light burning in their room! Oh, indeed Miss Fenler had seen that, and she had opened the door.
Whatever she did, was done wholly for her own sake, and Judy eyed her with suspicion when she saw how promptly she took the big cat to the kitchen. Having given the cat over to the care of Judy, Patricia raced up the stairway to her room. Judy rolled her eyes to look after her. "Wha' fo' she done dat?" she asked of Miss Fenler, who stood near her. "Wha' fo'? I axes.
"I did not know that you had friends here in town," Miss Fenler said, in surprise. They were, of course friends, and they had lunched together. What they had said had been true, but surely not honest. Arabella stared stupidly at Miss Fenler, and Patricia imitated her stolid friend, too. It was easier to look dull than to answer more questions. On the third day Mrs.
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