Ella Enchanted - By Gail Carson Levine Page 0,17

day of our journey to Jenn, the town where our finishing school was located. The day was hazy and warm, and I was almost too hot to be hungry. Hattie had energy for only one command: to fan her.

"Fan me too," Olive said. She had worked out that if Hattie told me to do something, I would do it, and if she directed me to do the same thing, I would do that too. Hattie hadn't explained my obedience to her. She didn't bother to explain much to the slow-thinking Olive, and she must have enjoyed keeping the delicious secret to herself.

My arms ached. My stomach rumbled. I stared out the window at a flock of sheep and wished for a diversion that would take my mind away from lamb and lentil salad. My wish was granted instantly as the coach took off in a mad gallop.

"Ogres!" the coachman yelled. A cloud of dust hid the road behind us. Through it I made out a band of ogres, kicking up the dust as they chased us.

But we were outdistancing them. The cloud was receding.

"Why do you run from your friends?" one of them called. It was the sweetest voice I had ever heard. "We bear gifts of your hearts' desires. Riches, love, eternal life..."

Heart's desire. Mother! The ogres would bring her back from death. Why were we tearing away from everything we most wanted?

"Slow down," Hattie ordered unnecessarily. The coachman had already reined in the horses.

The ogres were only yards behind. Untouched by their magic, the sheep were baa-ing and bleating their fear. Briefly their noise covered the honeyed words and the spell broke. I remembered that the ogres couldn't revive Mother. The horses were again whipped to a gallop.

But the ogres would be beyond the sheep in a minute and we'd be at their mercy again. I shouted to Hattie and Olive and to the coachman and footmen.

"Yell so you can't hear them."

The coachman understood first and joined my voice with his, shouting words I'd never heard before. Then Hattie began. "Eat me last! Eat me last!" she shrieked.

But it was Olive who saved us. Her wordless roar drowned out thought. I don't know how she drew breath; the sound was unending. It continued as we passed the outlying homes of jenn, while the ogres faded from sight and while I recovered from my fright.

"Quiet, Ollie," Hattie said. "Nobody is going to be eaten. You're giving me a headache."

But Olive didn't hush until the coachman stopped the carriage, came inside with us, and slapped her smartly across the face.

"Sorry, miss," he said, and popped back out. Finishing school was in an ordinary wooden house. Except for its enormous ornamental shrubs pruned into the shapes of wide-skirted maidens, it might have been the home of any not-so-prosperous merchant.

I hoped the lunch portions were generous.

The door opened as we drove up, and an erect, gray-haired lady strutted down the walkway to our carriage.

"Welcome, young ladies." She swept into the smoothest curtsy I'd ever seen. We curtsied in return.

She waved a hand at me. "But who is this?"

I spoke quickly, before Hattie could explain me in a way I didn't want to be explained.

"I'm Ella, madam. My father is Sir Peter of Frell. He wrote a letter." From my carpetbag I extracted Father's letter and the purse he'd given me.

She tucked the letter and the purse (after weighing it expertly in her palm) into her apron pocket.

"What a lovely surprise. I am Madame Edith, headmistress of your new home.

Welcome to our humble establishment." She curtsied again.

I wished she'd stop. My right knee cracked when I went down.

"We just had lunch."

So much for generous portions.

"And we are sitting down to our embroidery. The young ladies are anxious to meet you, and it's never too soon to start being finished."

She ushered us into a large sunny room. "Young ladies," she announced, "here are three new friends for you.

A roomful of maidens rose, curtsied, then resumed their seats. Each one wore a pink gown with a yellow hair ribbon. My gown was stained and wrinkled from the journey, and my hair was probably limp and unkempt.

"Back to work, ladies," Madame Edith said. "Sewing Mistress will help the new pupils."

I lowered myself into a chair near the door and stared defiantly at the elegance around me. I met the eyes of a girl about my age. She smiled hesitantly. Maybe my look softened, because her smile grew and she winked.

Sewing Mistress approached, bearing a needle, an