seat beside her friend.
She looked up at them, in the doorway, waving their good-byes.

"If I didn't know that I was coming back in two years to stay, I
couldn't bear it, mother Benjamin," she called back. Then the fat horses
started off briskly, down the road.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Miss Vantine's School for Girls was probably no better and no worse than
schools of its kind. It bestowed a superficial training upon its pupils,
with an accent upon the social graces. Its graduates were always easily
identified by their English a's, their good diction, their charming
manners, and their intensely conventional point of view. Any departure
from the Vantine "norm" in the way of investigation or conclusion was
discouraged as not nice.

Miss Vantine truly believed in herself as an educator and since her
school had held its prestige for thirty years, she had reason to think
that other people agreed with her. Her mark on a girl was absolutely
guaranteed.

Into this conventional atmosphere Isabelle came from the simple,
friendly life of Hill Top; and she found it hateful. It was the spirit
rather than the letter which had prevailed in the Benjamin school, but
here only the letter counted. The outward forms, correct manners, were
emphasized every day; but in the process, the courteous heart was
neglected and left out.

The teachers were the custodians of information, and of the law. They
bore a perfectly formal relationship to the pupils. Education consisted
in pouring facts into the upturned cups--the minds of the pupils. When
Isabelle began to question, to dig deeper into the root of things, the
why of things--if instead of the usual "Yes, Miss Vantine," or "No, Miss
Vantine," she demanded basic reasons--the explanation was always
repeated, patiently in the same words, and the lesson went on.

Isabelle's "rough ways" were deplored, and she was reproved every hour
in the day. Restraints were imposed on her mind and her body. She was
like a healthy, curious young animal, all tied with bonds that she could
neither loose nor fight.

As for the girls, there were some old acquaintances among them--Margie
Hunter for one. But their talk was of boys, of beaux, and for ever of
males! They spent hours conversing about their clothes, or commenting on
the manners of their parents and the morals of their parents' friends.
They were deeply interested in the discussion of sex, and there were
some phases