"It is this: poor Miss Sinclair-dear, nice Miss Sinclair-has been obliged to leave."

"Oh, well, I am not sorry for that," said Jasper. "I was getting a bit jealous of her. You seemed to be getting on so well with her."

"So I was. I quite loved her; she made my lessons so interesting. But what do you think, Jasper? Although I am very sorry she has gone, I am glad about the other thing. Audrey and I are going to school, as daily boarders, just outside the village; Chepstow House it is called. We are going to-morrow morning. Mothery would like that; she always did want me to go to school. I am glad. Are you not glad too, Jasper?"

"That depends," said Jasper in an oracular voice.

"What does it all depend on? Why do you speak in that funny way?"

"It depends on you, my dear. I have heard a great deal about schools.

Some are nice and some are not. In some they give you a lot of freedom, and you are petted and fussed over; in others they discipline you. When you are disciplined you don't like it. If I were you--"

"Yes-what?"

"I would stay there if I liked it, and if I did not I would not stay. I would not have my spirit broke. They often break your spirit at school.

I would not put up with that if I were you."

"I am sure they won't break my spirit," said Evelyn in a tone of alarm.

"Why do you speak so dismally, Jasper? Do you know, I am almost sorry I told you. I was so happy at the thought of going, and now you have made me miserable. No, there is not the slightest fear that they will break my spirit."

"Then that is all right, dear. Don't forget that you are the heiress."

"I could let them know at school, could I not?"

"I would if I were you," said the injudicious woman. "I would tell the girls if I were you."

"Oh yes; so I can. I wonder if they will be nice girls at Chepstow House?"

"You let them feel your power, and don't knock under to any of them,"

said Jasper. "And now, my dear, I must really send you home. There, I'll walk a bit of the way back with you. You are looking very bonny, my little white Eve; you have got quite a nice color in your cheeks. I am glad you are well; and I am glad, too, that the governess has gone, for I don't want her to get the better of me. Remember what I said about school."

"That I will, Jasper; I'll be sure to remember."

"It would please her ladyship if you got on well there," continued Jasper.

"I don't want to please Aunt Frances."

"Of course you don't. Nasty, horrid thing! I shall never forgive her for turning me off. Now then, dear, you had best run home. I don't want her to see us talking together. Good-by, pet; good-by."

CHAPTER XV.-SCHOOL.

The girls at Chepstow House were quite excited at the advent of Audrey and Evelyn. They were nice girls, nearly all of them; they were ladies, too, of a good cla.s.s; but they had not been at Chepstow House long without coming under the influence of what dominated the entire place-that big house on the hill, with its castellated roof and its tower, its moat too, and its big, big gardens, its s.p.a.cious park, and all its surroundings. It was a place to talk to their friends at home about, and to think of and wonder over when at school. The girls at Chepstow House had often looked with envy at Audrey as she rode by on her pretty Arab pony. They talked of her to each other; they criticised her appearance; they praised her actions. She was a sort of princess to them. Then there appeared on the scene another little princess-a strange child, without style, without manners, without any personal attractions; and this child, it was whispered, was the real heiress. By and by pretty Audrey would cease to live at Castle Wynford, and the little girl with the extraordinary face would be monarch of all she surveyed. The girls commented over this story amongst each other, as girls will; and when the younger Miss Henderson-Miss Lucy, as they called her-told them that Audrey Wynford and her cousin Evelyn were coming as schoolgirls to Chepstow House their excitement knew no bounds.

"They are coming here," said Miss Lucy, "and I trust that all you girls who belong to the house will treat them as they ought to be treated."

"And how is that, Miss Lucy?" said Brenda Fox, the tallest and most important girl in the school.

"You must treat them as ladies, but at the same time as absolutely your equals in every respect," said Miss Lucy. "They are coming to school partly to find their level; we must be kind to them, but there is to be no difference made between them and the rest of you. Now, Brenda, go with the other girls into the Blue Parlor and attend to your preparation for Signor Forre."

Brenda and her companions went away, and during the rest of the day, whenever they had a spare moment, the girls talked over Audrey and Evelyn.

The next morning the cousins arrived. They came in Audrey's pretty governess-cart, and Audrey drove the fat pony herself. A groom took it back to the Castle, with orders to come for his young ladies at six in the evening, for Lady Frances had arranged that the girls were to have both early dinner and tea at school.

They both entered the house, and even Audrey just for a moment felt slightly nervous. The elder Miss Henderson took them into her private sitting-room, asked them a few questions, and then, desiring them to follow her, went down a long pa.s.sage which led into the large schoolroom. Here the girls, about forty in number, were all a.s.sembled.

Miss Henderson introduced the new pupils with a few brief words. She then went up to Miss Lucy and asked her, as soon as prayers were over, to question both Audrey and Evelyn with regard to their attainments, and to put them into suitable cla.s.ses.

The Misses Wynford sat side by side during prayers, and immediately afterwards were taken into Miss Lucy's private sitting-room. Here a very vigorous examination ensued, with the result that Audrey was promoted to take her place with the head girls, and Evelyn was conducted to the Fourth Form. Her companions received her with smiling eyes and beaming looks. She felt rather cross, however; and was even more so when the English teacher, Miss Thompson, set her some work to do. Evelyn was extremely backward with regard to her general education. But Miss Sinclair had such marvelous tact, that, while she instructed the little girl and gave her lessons which were calculated to bring out her best abilities, she never let her feel her real ignorance. At school, however, all this state of things was reversed. Audrey, calm and dignified, took a high position in the school; and Evelyn was simply, in her own opinion, nowhere. A sulky expression clouded her face. She thought of Jasper's words, and determined that no one should break her spirit.

"You will read over the reign of Edward I., and I will question you about it when morning school is over," said Miss Thompson in a pleasant tone. "After recreation I will give you your lessons to prepare for to-morrow. Now, please attend to your book. You will be able to take your proper place in cla.s.s to-morrow."

Miss Thompson as she spoke handed a History of England to the little girl. The History was dry, and the reign, in Evelyn's opinion, not worth reading. She glanced at it, then turned the book, open as it was, upside down on her desk, rested her elbows on it, and looked calmly around her.

"Take up your book, Miss Wynford, and read it," said Miss Thompson.

Evelyn smiled quietly.

"I know all about the reign," she said. "I need not read the history any more."

The other girls smiled. Miss Thompson thought it best to take no notice.

The work of the school proceeded; and at last, when recess came, the English teacher called the little girl to her.

"Now I must question you," she said. "You say you know the reign of Edward I. Let me hear what you do know. Stand in front of me, please; put your hands behind your back. So."

"I prefer to keep my hands where they are," said Evelyn.

"Do what I say. Stand upright. Now then!"

Miss Thompson began catechizing. Evelyn's cra.s.s ignorance instantly appeared. She knew nothing whatever of that special period of English history; indeed, at that time her knowledge of any history was practically _nil_.

"I am sorry you told me what was not true with regard to the reign of Edward I.," said the governess. "In this school we are very strict and particular. I will say nothing further on the matter to-day; but you will stay here and read over the history during recess."

"What!" cried Evelyn, her face turning white. "Am I not to have my recreation?"

"Recess only lasts for twenty minutes; you will have to do without your amus.e.m.e.nt in the playground this morning. To-morrow I hope you will have got through your lessons well and be privileged to enjoy your pastime with the other pupils."

"Do you know who I am?" began Evelyn.

"Yes-perfectly. You are little Evelyn Wynford. Now be a good girl, Evelyn, and attend to your work."

Miss Thompson left the room. Evelyn found herself alone. A wild fury consumed her. She jumped up.

"Does she think for a single moment that I am going to obey her?"

thought the naughty child. "Oh, if only Jasper were here! Oh Jasper! you were right; they are trying to break me in, but they won't succeed."

A book which the governess had laid upon a table near attracted the little girl's attention. It was not an ordinary lesson-book, but a very beautiful copy of Ruskin's _Sesame and Lilies_. Evelyn took up the book, opened it, and read the following words on the t.i.tle-page: