the end of the following week.
Leucha liked the boy element in the school, and was exceedingly sorry
to part with it; but she perceived, to her intense satisfaction, that
the English contingent of girls at Ardshiel was very strong, and that,
notwithstanding all her audacity and daring, Jacko--of course she was
Jacko--could be kept in a minority. She felt there was no time to
lose, for Hollyhock looked at her with such flashing eyes, with such
saucy dimples round her lips, with such a very rare and personal
beauty, that Leucha felt she must get hold of her own girls at once, in
order to sustain the school against the wicked machinations of Jacko.
Accordingly she got Lady Barbara Fraser and her sister Dorothy, also
the Honourable Daisy Watson, to meet her in what was called the Summer
Parlour, a very pretty arbour in the grounds, where materials for a
fire were laid, and where a fire could be lit in cold weather.
Winter was approaching. It was now nearly October, and October in the
North is often accompanied by frosts and fallen leaves, and by bitter,
cold, easterly winds. Lady Leucha had, she considered, a very charming
manner. Having collected her friends round her, she went off with them
to seek for Mrs Macintyre. They found this good woman, as usual, very
busy, and very gentle and full of tact.
'We have come with a request,' said Lady Leucha.
'And what is that, my child?' asked Mrs Macintyre.
'Mrs Macintyre,' said Lady Leucha, 'you have in your school far more
English than Scotch girls.'
'That is true, my dear--at least, it is true up to the present. But I
have heard to-day from my dear friend Mrs Maclure that fifteen new
Edinburgh lassies will arrive on Saturday. You'll welcome them; won't
you, Leucha?'
'I like English girls best,' said Lady Leucha.
'That's natural enough, dear child. Well, you have a goodly number of
friends and relatives at the school.'
'I have,' said Leucha; 'but I have come in the name of my cousins,
Dorothy and Barbara Fraser, and my great friend Daisy Watson, to say
that we do not approve of the manners of the new pupil.'
'What new pupil, Leucha? There are a good many in the school.'
'I know that. But I allude to that wild-looking child with black eyes
and hair, who talks the absurdest nonsense. Would you believe it, dear
Mrs Macintyre, she talks of coming here on moonlight nights and wiping
the hair of a ghost? Could you imagine anything so silly?'
'It i
|