her, acknowledged the truth of Miss Rhodes's assertion
that they were all of a type. She herself was the only one of the
number who had any pretensions to roundness of outline, all the rest
were thin to angularity, half the number wore pince-nez or spectacles,
and all had the same strained pucker round the eyes. Each one wore a
blue serge skirt and a white blouse, and carried herself with an air of
dogmatic assurance, as who should say: "I know better than any one else,
and when I speak let no dog bark!" The German mistress was the veteran
of the party and was probably a good forty-five. Miss Bryce, the
Froebel mistress, paired with Claire herself for the place of junior.
Miss Blake, the Gym. mistress, was a graceful girl with an air of
delicacy which did not seem in accord with her profession. Miss Rose,
the Art mistress, was plain with a squat, awkward figure.

Rising from the table, Claire caught a glimpse of her own reflection in
the strip of mirror over the chimney-piece, and at the sight a little
thrill, half-painful, half-pleasant, passed through her veins. The soft
bloom of her complexion, the dainty finish of her dress, differentiated
her almost painfully from her companions, and she felt a pang of dread
lest that difference should ever grow less. While she affected to read
one of the magazines which lay on a side table, she was really occupied
making a number of vehement resolutions: Never to slack in her care of
her personal appearance; never to give up brushing her hair at night;
never to wear a flannel blouse; never to give up manicuring her hands;
never, no, never to allow herself to grow short-sighted, and be obliged
to submit to specs!

The different mistresses seemed to be on friendly terms, but there was
an absence of the camaraderie which comes from living under the same
roof. School was a common possession, but home hours were spent apart,
except when, as in Claire's own case, two mistresses shared the same
rooms, and it followed as a matter of course that personal interests
were divided. To-day the conversation was less scholastic than usual,
the intervening holidays forming a topic of interest. The Art mistress
had been on a bicycle sketching tour with a friend; the German mistress
had taken a cheap trip home; Miss Blake announced that all her money had
gone on "hateful massage," and the faces of her listeners sobered as
they listened, for Sophy Blake, who led the exercises with such verv