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Nan Sherwood at Lakeview Hall

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<h2>CHAPTER XIX SOME FUN—AND SOMETHING ELSE</h2> Did they never study or work? Was it all fun and adventure at Lakeview Hall? No, no, indeed! There was plenty of work, and Nan Sherwood, with Bess Harley and her other friends, said they were “actually worked to death” by some of the teachers. For the very reason that they did do so much, their minds in hours of relaxation turned to such frolics as this one planned at the haunted boathouse. Mademoiselle Loro was a little, dried, winter-leaf Frenchwoman, as quick and active as a cat and with beadlike black eyes, more like a bird’s than those of a human being. Mademoiselle Loro fairly slaved to make stubborn and careless girls attain a Parisian accent. “And about all we get from the poor old dear,” Laura said, “is a Paris-Kentucky accent and an ability to shrug our shoulders. Goodness! she’s got me doing that, too.” As for the German teacher, Frau Deuseldorf, she was of a different type entirely. A tall, formidable looking woman was Frau Deuseldorf, with a magnificent[144] air, no waistline, and a wart on her nose. Nan, whenever she stood before the good lady, never could see anything of the teacher’s face save that unfortunate blemish. Perhaps the teacher whom the girls as a whole disliked the most was Professor Krenner. He was a martinet in mathematics; whereas Nan found him a most lovable and delightful instructor in architectural drawing. It finally became a regular practice for the architectural drawing class to attend the professor’s lecture at his own cabin, one afternoon a week. And these afternoons were most delightfully spent. Nan did not go alone. She had interested in the study another girl, and oddly enough that was “Procrastination Boggs.” Amelia Boggs, from Wauhegan, was certainly peculiar; but Nan had learned to like her very quickly. Amelia told Nan all about the clocks and watches. Her father owned a store in Wauhegan, which had been let to a jeweler and clock-dealer. Mr. Boggs could not collect his rent, and Amelia undertook to do so. The clock-dealer had no money, but he offered to pay his rent out of his stock-in-trade. “I took him up on that, for Pop was too easy,” explained Amelia, “and I went through his shop, looked at the price-tags, and picked out enough clocks and watches to fill a wheelbarrow. My brother Johnny wheeled ’em home. We sold some,[145] and I expected to sell some of these I brought with me. But the girls think it’s such a joke I’ll never be able to get rid of ’em. Never mind. It only makes ’em laugh, so where’s the harm?” That they laughed at her and her peculiarities, did not bother Amelia. With Nan and her friends, the girl from Wauhegan was happy; and if she did not get along very fast in some of her studies, it was not so serious a matter. Amelia was delighted to get down into the kitchen (she had bribed the cook with a clock) and there she concocted little dishes, some of which found their way to Dr. Prescott’s table. “Mercy on us!” said the preceptress, laughing. “Amelia will have me start a course in domestic science; and that is not what their parents have sent these girls to my school for.” However, once enlisted in the cause of Nan’s banquet in the haunted boathouse, Amelia Boggs became very helpful. It was she who borrowed tablecloths and napkins from the cook for use at the feast. Henry kept the door of the unused part of the boathouse locked, only to be opened when Nan and Bess and Amelia went there to make final preparations for the banquet on the afternoon of the day selected. They laid the cloths, trimmed and filled the hanging lamp, and laid the fire ready to light. Then the key of the door was entrusted to Walter Mason[146] and he ran around into Freeling port in his motor boat just before supper. Nan thought Linda Riggs and Cora Courtney had been lingering about the boathouse, listening and peeping; but she did not suspect these girls, disagreeable and objectionable as they were, would be mean enough to tell any teacher about the proposed banquet. “I suppose they are only wondering if we are to have a finer spread than they will have at their banquet,” Nan said to Bess. “I just hate their snooping around so,” grumbled Bess. Soon after supper Walter telephoned to his sister from their own house that all was well. He had delivered the goods at the boathouse and, with the help of the Masons’ gardener, had carried everything into the unused part of the building, as agreed. The key had been left in a secret corner known only to himself and Nan, and—he wished the girls good luck! Nan and her friends were all excitement that evening. Not much preparation was made for the following day’s tasks. Had Mrs. Cupp not been very busy about her own affairs, she would surely have noticed that some of her charges were in a great flutter. Miss Sadie Vane, Mrs. Cupp’s sister, had come to see her on this evening, and in great excitement[147] again. As soon as the matron was relieved of her supper duties she put on her wraps and left for the village with Miss Vane. This relieved the minds of Nan and Bess not a little. They ran down to the boathouse and found the key. But Bess utterly refused to go in without a light, and without the other girls for company. “Oh, all right,” said Nan. “I guess everything is safe. And all of the girls are so afraid of the place after dark that if they could get in they would not dare.” The evening dragged by. Curfew rang and still Mrs. Cupp did not return. Heavy-footed Susan went up through the corridors and looked to the lowering of the lights. Then she returned and the older girls were left to themselves—supposedly for the night. “When the cat’s away the mice can play.” It was then figures stole out of certain rooms, and along the corridors, and down the stairs. A rear door had been unchained. One by one the softly flitting figures gathered in the back garden. There was a wan moon to give them light enough to find the way to the foot of the bluff. But it was a ghostly moon, too, and aided objects along the way in casting weird shadows. May Winslow clung close to Nan and Bess. Grace and Lillie made up the rest of the trembling group who looked to Nan for comfort and support. Laura Polk and “Procrastination[148] Boggs” brought up a more or less courageous rear. In between were girls in all stages of excitement, from a state of hysterical fear to equally hysterical laughter. They came finally to the foot of the long flight of steps and Nan marshalled her forces. “Now, girls, pluck up your spirits. Close ranks! Forward—march!” she commanded. “Wha—what’s that?” quavered Lillie Nevin. “Oh! oh!” from Grace. “Now, you sawneys!” called the red-haired girl from the rear. “Behave! Don’t try to give us all a conniption fit.” “What’s that?” demanded one of the other girls. “Huh! are you seeing things, too?” cried Amelia. “No. What kind of a fit is a ‘conniption’?” “Don’t know,” admitted Laura. “But I’ve heard my grandmother from New England speak familiarly of ’em. What’s the matter up front?” “Oh, Lil and Grace are balking,” declared Nan, with disgust. “Do come on, children. I have an electric lamp. We sha’n’t be entirely in the dark.” “I—I saw something,” quavered the flaxen-haired Lillie. “Oh!” gasped Bess, more than a little inclined herself to be panic-stricken. “Do come along!” urged Nan. “There it is!” squealed Grace, suddenly. Half the girls thought they saw the black figure[149] dart around the corner of the building; the other half were looking in an entirely different direction at the moment. But all together emitted a chorused: “Oh!” “For pity’s sake, girls!” gasped Nan. “Don’t!” “It’s the ghost! the black ghost!” quavered May Winslow, groveling in the very depths of superstition. <hr class="l1" /> [150] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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