Adele Doring at Boarding School

The resident nurse took charge of the case and Geraldine’s ankle, which had been badly sprained, was carefully bandaged. When the pain had subsided, the girl fell into a light slumber and the nurse slipped away. Half an hour later Matilda stole into the room. She placed her exquisite spray of arbutus in a vase near Geraldine’s bed, then she tiptoed over to her own side, and began to pack her belongings. Though she was very quiet, Geraldine, who was only drowsing, opened her eyes and the first thing that she saw was the arbutus. She well knew who had placed it there. The screen was in front of her bed so that she could not see Matilda, but she heard her tiptoeing about. She wondered what she could be doing. She was soon to learn, for in another moment she saw the prairie girl going toward the door carrying all of her belongings. For the first time in her pampered life, Geraldine realized how selfish she had been.

“Miss Perkins,” she heard herself saying. “Please don’t move to-day.”

In surprise Matilda placed her suit-case on the floor and went to the bedside. “But I thought that you wanted to leave the school because I was your roommate. I am only a farmer’s daughter and of course you would not care to associate with me.”

“Yes, I do,” Geraldine declared, and there was a strange ring of sincerity in her voice. “I want to associate with you more than with any one else in the school.”

“Then I will stay a few days longer,” Matilda said quietly, “but when you are well perhaps you will feel as you did before. Just tell me so, won’t you, and I will gladly move.”

Turning back, she unpacked her suit-case and rehung the plaid shawl and beaver cap in the closet. Geraldine was amazed that any one could be so unselfish, but a sudden twinge in her ankle kept her from replying.

That afternoon another girl in the school became ill and the nurse was obliged to spend nearly all of the time in the infirmary, and so Matilda asked permission to take care of Geraldine. “I love to play nurse,” she said. “Mother was ill a long time and so I know just how, and since I am not to begin my classes until the spring examinations are over, I shall be glad to have something to do.”

Madame Deriby granted the permission and for several days Geraldine’s pillow was smoothed and her tray brought up by her kindly roommate.

One day Geraldine was able to sit up for a while and Matilda wrapped her in the warm plaid shawl and then sat in the sunny window to read to her. The story was interesting, but Geraldine was not listening. She was thinking of something that she had wanted to say to Matilda for the past week, but her pride had prevented. At last she exclaimed, “Matilda, will you stop a moment if you have reached the end of a chapter? There is something that I want to say.”

The other girl glanced up inquiringly.

“I want to ask your forgiveness for several things,” the English girl began. “First of all, please don’t move to the cupola, for I want you to be my roommate as long as I am in this school. I have always been lonely,” she added, “and how I have wished that I had a sister or even a girl cousin, but I had none. Mother died when I was a baby and Dad tried to be mother and sister to me, but he had to be away so much, and I have lived nearly all of my life in French and English boarding-schools. We were poorer at first because Dad was only a younger brother, but last year his older brother died and left us the Barrington estate. I was so delighted because I thought that we would settle down in that beautiful place and have a home at last, but Father could not be happy, he said, until he had found a sister of his who long ago came to America. If she was still living, he wanted to share his fortune with her. She had always been so loving to him, he told me, but she married some one beneath her and the older brother had disowned her. They knew that she came to the States with her husband, but she was never heard from again.

“We lived in our castle-like home for a month, then Dad packed up and said that he must come to America and try to find his lost sister. So we came. Dad put me in this boarding-school while he travels about looking for my aunt. He is away out in the Middle West now. In his last letter he wrote that this country is wonderful; he had never dreamed it was so big. He hasn’t found a trace of his lost sister, however, and so he will be back in a fortnight, then, how happy I shall be, for we shall go back to that wonderful Barrington Manor, and yet, Starr, I feel sure that I am going to be lonely. There will just be Daddy and me in that great rambling old castle, that is no one except the servants. I wish that I could take you back with me to be my adopted sister.”

Matilda smiled into the beautiful face of her roommate as she replied, “I’m glad that you like me, Geraldine, but I love my prairie home as much as you do your English home and I couldn’t let the ocean separate me from my splendid brothers.”

“Well, then go on with the story,” Geraldine said, and Matilda continued reading, feeling happier than she had since she came to Linden Hall Seminary.

Two weeks passed and Geraldine Barrington was able to walk about, but she was never content unless Matilda, whom she now called Starr, was her constant companion.

“Father is coming to-day,” Geraldine announced happily one morning as she entered their room holding an open letter. “He is so disappointed! He writes that he has visited every part of the West, but he has been unable to find his sister. He will be here this morning and I’m to ride down in the bus to meet him. I asked Madame Deriby if you might accompany me but she said that since you are just beginning your classes, she did not like to have you miss even one recitation, but I want you to get acquainted with him when we come back to the school.”

“I would like to meet your father,” Matilda replied. “I am ever so glad for your sake that he is coming.” Then taking her books, she went to her classes.

At noon Geraldine danced into their room as she exclaimed, “Dad is here, Starr, and—oh, we’ve had so much to talk about. He and I are to have lunch together in the private dining-room and Madame Deriby said that right after that you may come and meet him.”

When the hour arrived, Matilda followed Geraldine into the large parlor and a gentleman arose to greet them.

“Dad, this is Starr, my roommate!” Geraldine exclaimed happily, and Matilda found it hard to realize that this was the haughty girl who had at first refused to speak to her.

“My daughter tells me that you live in the wonderful West,” Mr. Barrington said kindly when the three were seated. “Dakota is the one State, however, that I did not visit on my quest. All that I could see was a vast prairie and I was sure that my sister, brought up with every luxury, would not be content to live there.”

Matilda flashed a smile at the speaker. “Oh, Mr. Barrington,” she exclaimed, “I love the prairie! I wouldn’t exchange it for all the terraces and gardens of the world.” Then, fearing that she had been rude, she added, “My mother was born in England and she has often told me about the wonderful lawns and gardens about the home of her childhood. She lived at a place called Ivondale.”

“Ivondale!” the man repeated in amazement. “What was your mother’s name, Matilda, before she was married?”

“It was Margaret Inslay. I was named after Father’s mother.”

The gentleman caught both of her hands in his and his face glowed with excitement. “Then your mother must have been my sister!” he declared. “Our name was Inslay at that time, but after we inherited our grandfather’s estate, we used the name Inslay-Barrington.”

The news spread through the school like wild-fire and Adele Doring drew Matilda into Apple-Blossom Alley as she exclaimed, “So you were a Cinderella all the time, you dear beautiful girl. I’m glad that I loved you in the very beginning, however, or you might think that I was hugging you now just because your ancestor’s name was Inslay-Barrington, with a hyphen in it.”

Starr laughed happily. “Adele,” she whispered, “I would rather be the daughter of my own dear farmer daddy than a princess. Geraldine’s father has gone to Dakota. He is so eager to see my wonderful brothers. I am hoping that you will meet them some day, Della.” Then she exclaimed joyously, “Do you suppose that sometime your mother would permit you to visit me?”

“I’m sure of it,” Adele replied happily, “and I want you to visit me this summer before you return to the West.”

The girls little dreamed of the delightful something that was to happen for all of them during the long vacation which was rapidly approaching.