oughout the strain of the last week. Claire
dropped her head on the nearest resting-place she could find, which
happened to be Miss Rhodes's blue serge lap, and felt the quick pressure
of a hand over the glossy coils.

"Poor little girl!" said the English mistress softly. "Poor little
girl! I'm sorry! I'm a beast! Take no notice of me. I'm a sour,
disagreeable old thing. It was more than half jealousy, dear, because
you looked so pretty and spry, so like what I used to look myself. The
life's all right, if you keep well, and don't worry too much ahead.
There, don't cry! I loathe tears! You will yourself, when you have to
deal with silly, hysterical girls. Come, I'll promise I won't poison
you any more--at least, I'll do my best; but I've a grumbling nature,
and you'd better realise it, once for all, and take no notice. We'll
get on all right. I like you. I'm glad you came. My good girl, if you
don't stop, I'll shake you till you do!"

Claire sat back on her heels, mopped her eyes, and gave a strangled
laugh.

"I hate crying myself, but I'll begin again on the faintest provocation.
It's always like that with me. I hardly ever cry, but when I once
begin--"

Miss Rhodes rose with an air of determination.

"We'd better go out. I am free till lunch-time. I'll take you round
and show you the neighbourhood, and the usual places of call. It will
save time another day. Anything you want to buy?"

Claire mopped away another tear.

"C-certainly," she said feebly. "A c-offee machine."

CHAPTER SIX.

THE INVITATION.

The next morning Claire was introduced to the scene of her new labours,
and was agreeably impressed with its outside appearance. Saint
Cuthbert's High School was situated in a handsome thoroughfare, and had
originally been a large private house, to which long wings had been
added to right and left. On each side and across the road were handsome
private houses standing in their own grounds, owned by tenants who
regarded the High School with lively detestation, and would have borne
up with equanimity had an earthquake swallowed it root and branch.

Viewed from inside, the building was less attractive, passages and
class-rooms alike having the air of bleak austerity which seems
inseparable from such buildings; but when nine o'clock struck, and the
flood of young life went trooping up the stairways and flowed into the
separate rooms, the sense of bareness was replaced by one of tingl