Dorothy Dainty at Glenmore | Page 3

girls were glad enough to get out upon the
platform.
Glenmore, the village, was a lovely little country place, quiet, and
evidently content with itself.
Glenmore, the school, was a rambling, picturesque home for the pupils
who came there.
Once it had been a private mansion, but its interior had been remodeled
to meet the requirements of a small, and select school for girls.
A bit old-fashioned in that it was more genuinely homelike than other
private schools, it held itself proudly aloof from neighboring buildings.
It claimed that its home atmosphere was the only old-fashioned thing
about it, and that was not an idle boast, for the old house had been
equipped with every modern convenience. Its instructors were the best
that a generous salary could tempt to Glenmore, and Mrs. Marvin,
owner, promoter, and manager of the school, was an exceedingly clever
woman for the position.
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.

Accordingly when Dorothy and Nancy left the train, and found
themselves on the platform, Miss Fenler was looking for them, and she
stowed them away in the carryall much as if they had been only
ordinary baggage.
Then, seating herself beside the driver, she ordered him to return.
"Home," she said, and "home" they were driven, for "home" meant
Glenmore to the colored man, who considered himself a prominent
official of the school.
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.
"See the procession with the 'Fender' ahead," whispered a saucy miss.
"Her name's 'Fenler,'" corrected her chum.
"I know that, but I choose to call her 'Fender,' because she's like those
they have on engines to scoop up any one who is on the tracks. She's
just been down to the station to 'scoop' two new pupils, and I guess--"
A tap of a ruler left the sentence unfinished.
Arabella Correyville, without an idea as to what was whispered, had
seen the broad smile, and had heard the giggle.
"Who was out there?" she wrote on a bit of paper, and cautiously
passed it to Patricia Levine.
"I don't know. I didn't see them, but they must be swell. They had ever
so much luggage." That was just like Patricia. She judged every one
thus.
That a girl could be every inch a lady, and at the same time, possess a

small, well chosen wardrobe was past understanding; but any girl,
however coarse in appearance and manner, could, with a display of
many gaudy costumes, convince Patricia that she was a young person
of great importance.
Miss Fenler talked with them for a few moments, and then left them to
unpack their belongings, saying that later, when they felt rested, they
might come down to the reception hall and meet some of the girls who
would be their classmates during the year.
It was the custom, she said, for the pupils to meet for a social half-hour
before dinner, to talk over the happenings of the day, their triumphs or
failures in class-room, or at sports, or to tell what had interested those
who had been out for a tramp.
There had been an afternoon session that day for the purpose of
choosing from the list of non-compulsory studies.
"Usually," Miss Fenler explained, "the classes meet for recitations in
the forenoon only, the afternoons being reserved for study, and when
lessons were prepared, for recreation."
Miss Fenler left them, closing the door softly behind her.
Dorothy turned to look at Nancy.
"What do you think of her?" Nancy said, asking the question that she
knew was puzzling Dorothy.
After a second's thought Dorothy said:
"We shall get on with her, I believe, but I can't think Arabella or
Patricia would be very comfortable here. Really, they will be obliged to
study here, and Arabella won't want to, and I don't think Patricia could.
If they don't study, how can they remain?"
Nancy laughed outright.
"Don't worry about those two funny girls," she said, "for if they won't

study, or can't study, and so are not allowed to remain, you'll be just as
happy, Dorothy dear, and for that matter, so will they."
Later, when together