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Updated: June 2, 2025
On the first dormitory floor were the instructors' rooms, for the most part. One lady teacher only slept on the second floor; above, the seniors and juniors governed their own dormitories. By the time the girls came to their last two years at Pinewood Hall, Madame Schakael believed that they should be governed by honor solely.
"Because Madame Schakael put me on my honor not to leave the Hall in recreation hours without permission." "Oh! goodness!" gasped Jennie. Then she burst out laughing, rocking herself to and fro, doubled up in the darkness of the hallway. "What a delightful kid you are, Nance!" she cried, at last. "And you threw your handbag, all packed, out of the window?" "Yes." "Well, I'll go get it.
"She is a perfect nobody!" gasped Cora. "She came here from a charity school. She's never lived anywhere else but at that school. She doesn't know a living thing about herself who she is, what her folks were, why they abandoned her " Possibly Madame Schakael said something. But, if so, neither of the three heard what it was.
Pinewood had once been a famous private estate, and a Vice-president of the United States had lived in it. But for many years it had been a girls' school, and Madame Schakael had come from Germany to be its principal. As a little girl she had attended the school herself, Nancy knew, and she had afterward after being an instructor in college married a German professor and gone to his country.
And I've spoiled a perfectly good rubber!" "I must run down. Come with me, Jen!" "All right," agreed her chum, and together the two girls in their flannel robes scuttled out of Number 83 and down the two flights to the lower hall. There was a light in the principal's office. When Nancy and Jennie went in Madame Schakael was sitting at her broad desk. It was not yet midnight.
In dancing pumps and a white waistcoat and tail coat he looked rather ridiculous. And when he led out Madame Schakael who looked like a sweet-faced French doll for the grand march, they really did look funny together. But it was no stiff and formal ball after the "heads" of the two schools were off the floor.
She had no business to venture on the ice without asking permission. And her heart throbbed and her face flushed and paled by turns as she waited for the principal to appear. But when Madame Schakael entered the anteroom she was not alone. Nancy, from within, heard another voice a shrill and unpleasant voice which she very well knew. "Well, I don't care what you say, Madame, it was her.
"And that is," pursued Madame Schakael, slowly, "that you will be denied recreation, save that which is a part of the school curriculum, until the Christmas recess." Nancy said nothing. But she fully understood what it meant. No outdoor runs alone, no skating, nothing save the exercises prescribed by the physical instructor. "You may wait for Sally's return.
"Hullo, Nancy Nelson!" she said, cheerfully, putting her hand upon the younger girl's shoulder. "What did you want to be such a perfect little brick for?" "I I don't know what you mean?" quoth Nancy, shrinking under the senior's touch. "Why, if you'd told Madame Schakael all about it the other night when she caught you in Number 40, do you suppose she would have punished you so harshly?"
Madame Schakael was so different from Miss Prentice, the principal of the school at which Nancy had lived so many years. "Isn't she just the sweetest woman you ever met?" demanded Corinne, enthusiastically. "She is lovely," responded Nancy. "But she is firm. Don't try to take any advantage of her," laughed the senior. "You will find that she is only doll-like in appearance.
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