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Have you seen him?" Torquato nodded, and the Vidame went on impatiently: "Are you dreaming, or am I? You have not been out of the house." "But, excellency, benighted travellers might seek the house for rest and a guide to the ford of the Mable." At these words a red flush came over Simon's face, and he half rose from his chair.
This is a small school in a small town, where everyone knows everyone else; otherwise you'd have been guarded as jealously as if you were in a convent. Did you ever know or hear of any other private boarding school where the girls were allowed to go to town evenings, or whenever they pleased out of school hours?" "Didn't I tell you?" snapped Mable, addressing the group.
"It's positively cruel!" pouted Jennie Allen, one of a group of girls occupying a garden bench in the ample grounds of Miss Stearne's School for Girls, at Beverly. "It's worse than that; it's insulting," declared Mable Westervelt, her big dark eyes flashing indignantly. "Doesn't it seem to reflect on our characters?" timidly asked Dorothy Knerr. "Indeed it does!" asserted Sue Finley.
It was only when I switched on the electric light that they disappeared. I searched the house most carefully, but there were no signs of any animal. Joined Delia, feeling nervous and henpecky. "Monday, November 7th. Tom and Mable came running into Delia's room in a great state of excitement after tea to-day. 'Mother! they cried, 'Mother! Do come!
"Hurry along!" called Grace, who was impatiently waiting for Cleo and Madaline, both of whom seemed to enjoy lagging while Grace wanted to be early rather than late. "Don't you know we have to take our tests and Captain Clark ordered us to be at headquarters at seven-fifteen sharp?" "All right," responded Cleo, "but here come Mable Blake and Mildred Clark.
"I warned you that her goody-goody airs were a cloak to hidden wickedness," said Mable, tossing her head. "Blood will tell," drawled Lina Darrow, a very fat girl. "Mary Louise has bad blood in her veins and it's bound to crop out, sooner or later. I advise you girls to keep your trunks locked and to look after your jewelry." "Shame shame!" cried Dorothy Knerr, and the others echoed the reproach.
She rose quickly and left the room, to the great relief of the other girls, who wanted to talk the matter over. "The idea," cried Mable indignantly, "of that old villain's foisting his grandchild on this respectable school while he ran away to escape the penalty of his crimes!" "Mary Louise is all right," asserted Jennie Allen stoutly. "She isn't to blame, at all."
One would think, the way she poses as monitor at this second-rate, run-down boarding school, that Mary Louise Burrows made the world." "Oh, Mable! I've never known her to pose at all," said Sue. "But, hush; she mustn't overhear us and, besides, if we want her to intercede with Miss Stearne we must not offend her."
Does he make no distinction between the vaudeville, continuous performance buffoons and the thousands who are "not stars," but working well and perhaps hoping? Does he call our scullery-maids and stable-boys "representative American middle class?" Does he call Mable Strickland and other dainty little hard-workers in minor parts typical of the hideous coarseness and vice he has described?
"Listen to the Mable," urged Pierrebon; "is there a bridge? If not we must ford it; and they say the river is deep and dangerous; but perhaps mademoiselle knows the ford?" "Indeed I do not." Considering all things, I came to the conclusion that Pierrebon was right, and that it would be wiser to seek the house.
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