Just that instant the trunk came and Lilian excused herself and went up with it. Her mother was up and looked rested.

"And please put on that black and white lawn, even if it is a little crumpled, and my white batiste always shakes out. It is nice if it isn't very fine."

The bell sounded and they went down. The table was laid in the pretty little tea room. Lilian ate and drank with a sensation of delight. The china was so delicate, the table so beautifully arranged, the serving so perfect. Often in reading a story Lilian had fancied herself the heroine and enjoyed the feast.

The child has much finer breeding than the mother, Mrs. Barrington mused. She almost fancied she detected something furtive about Mrs.

Boyd. Was she being won by the girl's proud face to the detriment of the mother? It seemed to her that Mrs. Boyd stood in awe of her daughter.

Afterward they went to the parlor which was a fine large room splendidly furnished, Lilian thought. There was a grand piano, an organ, two beautiful marbles, vases and pictures. There was a wide hall that was like another room. Here on the west side was the school and recitation rooms, the girl's dining room and a commodious kitchen.

"Will you go up stairs?" asked Mrs. Barrington.

Lilian answered eagerly, Mrs. Boyd followed.

Over this side were the dormitories and baths. Some rooms accommodated two beds, others only one. They were neat and pleasant and had been lately put in order.

"I do not care for more than twenty boarding pupils," explained Mrs.

Barrington. "That makes a nice family with sufficient variety of character. I am much interested in the development of girls, and the town has nothing detrimental in it. We have a fine music hall where there are concerts and lectures, occasionally a play, and a nice library. The walks and drives about are beautiful."

The hall was not so wide up here. There were two entrances to the family side, the one to Mrs. Barrington's rooms which was divided by a short hall from those of the a.s.sistants. Two of the teachers lived at the school, though one of them had a room where she could be in touch with the girls.

When they reached her room Mrs. Boyd said--

"If you don't mind I will retire. I am so little used to long journeys that this has fatigued me. No, Lilian you need not stay. I shall not want anything. By morning I shall be rested," and she waved her away.

"Are you quite sure?" asked the girl, "and you will not be lonely?"

"Oh no, I shall enjoy the quiet."

"Are you fond of music?" asked Mrs. Barrington. "Shall I play a little for you?"

"Oh, that would be delightful. I have heard very little that might be called refined music."

Then she knew the difference.

She was charmed, though the hostess played mostly the simpler things.

She thought she could have listened all night.

A night's rest refreshed Mrs. Boyd very much and the certainty that Lilian had found a good friend. For she knew she could not stand the struggle much longer. She was really worn out.

Her duties were explained in a very kindly manner. There were the linen closets at hand, the bedding that she was to deal out as it was needed, the table napery. What she did for the girls was quite her own affairs.

"And you must not allow them to impose on you. My rule is that all small bills must be settled once a month. Most of the girls get their allowance then. You will have considerable leisure for yourself. I hope you will soon feel very much at home."

As for Lilian she seemed in an enchanted land. Such stores of splendid reading, such a magnificent out of doors! She and her mother were sent out to drive, and the town was like the places she had read about in books or the higher grade monthly papers. Then Mrs. Dane, the housekeeper, returned and Miss Arran, who was a kind of secretary, took her outing.

Mrs. Dane was a tall, rather severe looking person. All disputes with the servants and any discomforts in the rooms were under her jurisdiction. Why it was like a little kingdom in itself.

"Mrs. Boyd doesn't look very robust and seems rather timid, uncertain, though if she is capable--" Mrs. Dane began rather sharply.

"She has been seamstress to a dressmaker for several years. I fancy she has had it pretty hard for the last year or two, but Miss Lilian is very bright and energetic, only I am afraid she will hold her head rather too high."

"I fancy she will make an excellent teacher. That is her aim."

Mrs. Barrington had looked through the big book of photographs of school girls. Some turns of the head, some glances and a sound in the voice still puzzled her, but it was connected with something in the past. Few young girls made characteristic portraits. Ah, here was one who had just that poise, that eager ambitious expression. A Miss Mortimer who certainly possessed fine abilities, and a resonant voice. She had taken the lead in school entertainments, and then she had joined a theatrical troupe and married a third rate actor, to the lady's great disappointment.

"There is some likeness," she mused, "only the voice is much gentler, more truly musical. It must be that is the elusive suggestion, and Miss Boyd is wild over Shakespeare. It shall be my purpose to prevent her from being an actress, unless she can stand in the front ranks."

Lilian and Miss Arran became friends almost at once. Both were fond of walking, and to Lilian the beautiful aspect of the town, the woods and the picturesque river with its many windings and suggestive nooks where she always found a new touch of beauty stirred her with a vivid and intense delight.

Then the real life began. Girls trouped in, trunks were set down with a thump or oftener carried up on the third floor for unpacking. Girls in the remnant of summer suits, for it was still warm, others in cloth or serge, laughing chatting, running to and fro. How bright and merry it all was!

It took some time to get settled. The first grade girls who were to be the next year graduates, if they chose, were at one table with Mrs.

Barrington and Madame Eustis, the French teacher; the other had Miss Arran, Miss Davis, and the new scholars or the second grade old ones.

Lilian was at this table, though they could have their meals in their own rooms.

She felt very sorry for her neighbor, Alice Nevins, who was dreadfully homesick and scarcely tasted anything, winking desperately to keep her eyes from overflowing. Some of them looked very bright and jolly.

"Girls," exclaimed Louie Howe, as a group gathered on the lawn, "there's a new pupil teacher, and you know that's one of Mrs. Barrington's fads.

Last year's girl wasn't much of a success it seems. I think it's that lanky girl in brown silk who looks half frightened out of her wits, and her mother is the seamstress and caretaker. I wouldn't have put her in brown silk with that dull brown hair and wretched complexion."

"Thank fortune she isn't at our table!"

"Oh, Mrs. Barrington wouldn't put such a looking object with us. She really doesn't know enough to last over night. There are eight new scholars, three with us come for finishing touches, five in the second grade."

"There's a girl I'd like to know with that splendid light hair, just the least bit wavy. She sat opposite Miss Arran, and had a blue lawn frock with the baby waist and lace yoke. She is fine looking; a little too grave to be handsome, but her complexion is lovely. She's a princess in disguise, I can tell by the way she holds her head. I shall throw myself at her feet when I get a chance. It is a case of love at first sight. There she is with that brown girl. I'd go over but I am afraid of being snubbed. I do wonder who she can be, and there she's taking that Elma Ransom under her wing. It will take the child five years to get up to our first division." "That brown girl as you call her is a Miss Nevins. Her parents have gone abroad, I've learned that much, and they are well to do. That is the golden mean between comparative and great wealth. Miss Vincent introduced her to me, and then she turned her to that rather striking looking girl."

"And which do you suppose is Miss Boyd? Or has she run back to mamma's sheltering wing?"

"I think she has discreetly retired. We must make some excuse to get in to our lady of the needle. I'm sorry Miss Nevins isn't better looking if she has plenty of money."

"Well, the G.o.ds were just this time. She will need the money to illumine her pathway. Just see that girl in the blue frock. Why, they are thronging about her."

Louie Howe went over and caught little Elma Ransome by the arms. She was short and rather plump with an infantile face that made her look younger than her years.

"Why Elly, I'm glad to see you back. Now this year you must study hard and fill up some of the vacancies we graduates make." Then she glanced around the group.

Elma flushed and then said a little awkwardly--"This is Miss Boyd, and this Miss Nevins, and--I don't know all the names yet."

"You have more new scholars than we." Then she made a stiff little bow and turned away to her own group.

"Girls, what _do_ you think? Why, I nearly fainted with surprise. 'Looks _is_ often deceiving.' That girl I thought a princess in disguise is Miss Boyd. Why she has airs and graces enough to amaze you. If her mother is like that, will we ever dare to ask her to darn our stockings?"

"Miss Boyd!" exclaimed a chorus of voices.

"Well, it's good we have learned the fact at once so we shall not make any blunders. She'll be a sort of charity scholar working for her board and training. Of course we shan't have anything to do with her as she isn't in our set. Though it wouldn't be so bad but for the mother."

"That's real sn.o.bbish, Louie," said a girl.