The dance was coming to an end, with many of the seniors already returning to their cottages. After taking a few minutes to regain her poise, Concordia finally found Mr. Bradley. He was in close conversation with Miss Hamilton. Concordia had nearly overlooked the two of them, tucked in a corner by the balcony. The balustrade cast them in shadow, with only a bit of light illuminating Miss Hamilton’s hair and reflecting off of Mr. Bradley’s glasses. They were so earnestly engaged that neither was aware of her approach.
“That answer is not satisfactory, Mr. Bradley. Whyever were you—” Miss Hamilton was saying. Mr. Bradley, looking up and seeing Concordia, put a quick hand on the lady principal’s arm. Frowning, Miss Hamilton turned around, and fell silent.
“Miss Wells, there you are!
