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looks from the dean to me, her face pinking with embarrassment. Although I’ve only just met her I feel I’ve betrayed her trust.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chloe says. “
I
cleaned upstairs. Isabel was supposed to be cleaning the downstairs, but when I came down I found her with her nose in a book
as usual.”
    “You said you’d clean the downstairs if I did the whole research paper for our group!” Isabel counters.
    “You would have done it all yourself anyway since you think you’re smarter than anyone else.”
    “Girls!” Dean St. Clare’s voice silences the girls. “You were
both
responsible for the cleaning of the whole cottage and you were supposed to work on that research paper
together
. Here at Arcadia we are not allowed to barter chores.”
    “But Dean St. Clare, I’ve done some really interesting original research—” Isabel begins, but Ms. Drake stands up and interrupts her.
    “Dean St. Clare,” she says, removing a pin from her mouth. “I’m afraid this is all my fault. I’ve pushed the girls to work so hard on First Night. And Isabel has done such a good job researching the old festivals here. Perhaps if you take a look at her paper—” The woman leans downto retrieve an orange folder—the same one I saw Isabel Cheney carrying earlier—from a chair, but Dean St. Clare holds up one hand.
    “I’m sure Miss Cheney has done an admirable research job—she always does—but that is not the point. This school was founded on the spirit of collaboration and cooperation. Women helping women to achieve their artistic goals. And you two”—she levels an icy stare on Isabel and then Chloe—“have utterly failed. I have half a mind to replace you in tonight’s festivities—”
    “That’s not fair!” Chloe stands up, her too-long white dress poofing out around her. She looks really upset. “Isabel got to be the goddess since last May. She’s stepping down tonight and I’m just starting. So it’s not an equal punishment.”
    Goddess? I
think, beginning to wonder what sort of festival is planned for tonight. I remember that the founders of Arcadia put on elaborate festivals—May Day dances and winter solstice pageants—but I didn’t know they were still celebrated. Maybe Sally was right about this school being a little
off
.
    “Perhaps if the girls agreed to come by tomorrow to clean,” I say, “and I can get those journals later.”
    Dean St. Clare looks at me as if she has not only forgotten my presence but who I am. Then she shakes herself. “Those are both good ideas, Ms. Rosenthal. I’ll collect the material you need and have it ready for you tomorrow. And you two—Chloe and Isabel—come downstairs to my office. I’m not done with you yet.”
    “Chloe still needs her dress altered,” Ms. Drake says. “Why don’t you take Isabel first and I’ll send Chloe down as soon as I’m done with her?”
    “Very well,” the dean says. She suddenly looks tired. “Come with me, Isabel. And Ms. Rosenthal, don’t forget to stop by the kitchen for the food Dymphna is packing for you.”
    She turns to lead the way back to her office with Isabel in tow. I follow because otherwise I’ll have no idea how to find the kitchen again. I stay back a few yards, though. When the dean turns a corner Isabel turns to me. “I’m really sorry about the cottage not being cleaned,” she says.
    “I’m
really sorry I said anything, Isabel.”
    She grins at me. “It’s okay. I’m used to being in trouble. The kitchen’s just down this hall, by the way.” She turns to go and I watch her straighten her shoulders as she follows the dean. I hope I haven’t gotten her in too much trouble. She is, after all, the first friend I’ve made here.
    In the kitchen I find Dymphna standing at a massive cast-iron stove, ladling stew into a plastic container. “Please, that’s way too much,” I tell her.
    “Don’t argue, she’ll only give you more.”
    The voice comes from a