To empty the kettle into the pan and to carry it to
the chair beside the bed was an instant's task. Then, seizing the
upper sheet and using her teeth for scissors, she swiftly tore it into
strips; and by this time the dame had regained her own presence of
mind.

Without troubling to ask who Dorothy was or how she came to be there,
she now took charge of things, saying:

"You'll find clean towels in that chest of drawers. Fetch the doctor a
pile. Shears are yon in that work-basket. You're spry on your feet as
I can't be, but I do know how to take the clothes off this poor Robin.
My, what's this he clenches so tight in hand? One of them telegraph
letters 'tis his errand to deliver. All over the countryside the
laddie rode on his wheel to earn the bit money would pay his mother's
rent. Brave, bonny lad that he was!"

Gently releasing the telegram from his fingers, Mrs. Gilpin held it up
for the doctor to see.

"For Oak Knowe. Open it, little girl, and read if it's important."

She obeyed, but her voice trembled as she read. It was the belated
message that announced her own coming and the hour of her arrival. It
explained why she had not been met at the station, but she felt both
shocked and guilty as she exclaimed:

"Oh! it is my fault! It's all my fault that he is killed! Just about
me it happened! What shall I do--what shall I do?"

"Stop that sort of talk and see how your dead boy stares at you! Look
well, Robin, you see a real live Yankee girl!"

CHAPTER II

UNFORTUNATE BEGINNINGS

Even the most cultured Lady Principals do not enjoy being roused from
their slumbers, an hour after midnight, by the tooting of a motor car
beneath their bedroom windows. It was annoying to have to dress again
and descend to a dimly-lighted reception room to receive a new pupil
who had missed a train, on the route, and misdirected her telegram.
Nor was there anything prepossessing about this especial girl, whose
clothes steamed with moisture and whose travel-soiled cheeks were
streaked by raindrops and tears. So it was small wonder that Dorothy's
reception by Miss Muriel Tross-Kingdon was decidedly cool and crisp.

"This is really unprecedented, Miss Calvert. I cannot understand how
any young lady, whose friends consider her intelligent enough to
travel alone, could have made such stupid blunders, as you have. At
the point where you knew you were to change trains, why did you not
keep watch and inquire for direction?"