Ethelinda to make the advances this time, and as she did not see fit
even to say good-morning, the dressing proceeded in a silence so
profound that it could almost be felt.

There was a broad smile on Mary's face most of the time. She was ready
to laugh outright over the absurd situation, and from time to time she
cast an amused glance at Lloyd's picture, as if her amusement were
understood and shared. It was wonderful how that life-like picture
seemed to bring Lloyd before her and give her a delightful sense of
companionship, and she fell into the way of "thinking to it," as she
expressed it. The things she would have said aloud had Lloyd been with
her, she said mentally, finding a satisfaction in this silent communion
that a less imaginative person could not have experienced.

"I wish you could go down to breakfast with me, Princess," she thought,
turning for a last glance when she was dressed, and pausing with her
hand on the door-knob. "I dread to go down alone before all those
strangers."

Dinner, the night before, had been a very stately affair, with Madam at
the head of the table in the long banquet hall, and Hawkins in solemn
charge of his corps of waiters. But breakfasts were to be delightfully
informal, Mary found a few minutes later, when she paused at the dining
room door and saw many small round tables, each cozily set for six: five
pupils and a teacher. Betty, presiding at one, looked up and beckoned to
her.

"You're a trifle early, but come on in. You're to have a seat here by
me, with Elise and A.O. just around the corner. Now tell me what has
happened to give you that 'glorious morning face,' as Stevenson puts it.