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"Oh, lor, miss, you're too good, but there's that bell again; I must run this minute.""Yes, Marshall," said Dorothy; she stopped. Janet stopped also, and gave Marshall a freezing glance.

"No, no—do forgive me!"

"Now, let's go on," said Janet, in her calm tones. "Let us try and settle something before the supper bell rings. We must have a committee, that goes without saying. Suppose we four girls form it.""As I was saying," began Janet——"Cross-patch!" murmured Violet, turning her back on Janet. "Come, Marion; come, Pauline, we won't tell her any more. We'll tell you, Dolly, of course, but we won't tell Janet. Come, Marion, let's go."

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Bridget wore a white muslin dress with a long train. Her silver girdle was clasped round her waist. She went deliberately up to a rose tree in full flower, and, picking two or three half-opened buds, put them in her girdle.

"I don't mean that sort of learning, Bridget. I mean what you acquire from books—grammar, French, music."But plain as Evelyn undoubtedly was, no one who knew her long ever remarked about her appearance, or gave a second thought to the fact that she could lay small claim to physical beauty.

"Oh, I'll come to that by and by; now about Miss O'Hara. Janet, I deny that she's weak."

"What is it, my dear?" The head mistress drew herself slightly up, and looked in some surprise at her pupil.