with Jessie Pease that kept even the rudest girl
within bounds. They did not seek to take advantage of her--at least, if
any of them tried to do so, they did not succeed.

"Now, you know very well, Elsie Spear," the good woman was saying,
shaking her head, "that you cannot wear such things here at Pinewood.
Your mother, I am sure, would not have allowed you to put a bun like
that in your trunk had she known it!"

"Well, my hats won't stay on without it," complained Elsie. "And anyway,
mother's maid packed my trunk."

"Your mother's maid evidently does not know the rules of Pinewood Hall,"
said Jessie Pease, severely. "If your hats do not stay on without all
that fluff, I'll find you a cap to wear," and she laughed.

There were other contraband things, too. Each girl had to give up her
keys and allow the woman to unpack her trunks. Such clothing and other
possessions as were allowable, or necessary, were placed to one side for
transportation to the owner's dormitory.

Some girls had whole trays full of gay banners, pictures, photographs,
and the other "litter" that delight the heart of a boarding-school miss
when she can decorate her dressing-case and wall. Of course, the
freshies only had their home pictures and little silver or glass
keepsakes and toilet sets.

"Now, my plump little pigeon," said Jessie Pease to Nancy, as she laid
out the school dresses which Miss Prentice had bought for her with the
money Mr. Gordon had supplied, "you seem nicely fixed for wearing
apparel--and such plain, serviceable things, too. Not many of my girls
come here so very sensibly supplied.

"And now, where are the pretty things--in your bag?"

"My old clothes are in the bag, please," replied Nancy, bashfully.

"Oh! but where are the pictures of the folks at home? And the little
knicknacks they gave you when you came away?" said Jessie Pease, her
fair face all one big smile.

"There--there aren't any folks, please," stammered Nancy.

"What, dear?" gasped the woman, sitting straighter on her knees and
staring at her.

"I am an orphan, and I have no friends, ma'am," stammered Nancy, in so
low a voice that nobody else could hear.

"You poor girl!" cried the woman, her smile fading, but love and welcome
still shining in her big, brown eyes.

She stretched forth her arms and--somehow--Nancy found herself in the
tight circle, with her head down in the curve of Jessie Pease's motherly
neck.

"How long ago did you lose them, de