f Leucha, although her heart ached very badly
for her. But she felt that the reconciliation must, at any cost, now
come from Leucha's side; otherwise there would be no hope of peace or
rest in the school. The fact was this, that Hollyhock was feeling very
wild and restless just now. She had quite got over her fit of
repentance, and was full to the brim of fresh pranks.

'There's no saying what sin I 'll commit,' she said to herself, 'for
the de'il 's at work in me. With my rebellious nature, I cannot help
myself. I did wrong, and I owned it. I helped her and loved her; but
I could not bear her kisses. It may be that Providence has parted us,
so that I really need not be tried too far. Oh, but she is an ugly,
uninteresting lass, poor Leuchy! And yet once I loved her; and I 'd
love her again, and make her happy, if she 'd do with only two kisses a
day--_not_ otherwise; no, not otherwise. They're altogether too
_cloying_ for my taste!'

CHAPTER XXIII

THE GREAT CHARADE.

Mrs Macintyre was more vexed, more hurt, more annoyed than she could
possibly express. She had been willing--indeed, under the
circumstances, only too glad--to send sulky Leucha to The Garden; but
Leucha's unexpected return on the evening when the animal charade was
to be acted put her out considerably. She saw at a glance that Leucha
was unrepentant; that whereas Hollyhock was more than ready to forgive,
Leucha belonged to the unforgiving of the earth. Being herself a fine,
brave woman, Mrs Macintyre had little or no sympathy for so small and
mean a nature.

Of course, she regretted Hollyhock's practical joke; but then Hollyhock
had so abundantly made up for it by her subsequent conduct, and was
even now the soul of love and pity for the desolate, deserted,
obstinate girl.

Mrs Macintyre felt that she could not altogether side with Hollyhock,
but she had no intention of interfering with the charade because
Leucha, in her weak obstinacy, chose to return to the school on that
special day. She determined, however, to speak to the girl, and to
tell her very plainly what she thought about her and her conduct.

Leucha was in her pretty bedroom, where a bright fire was blazing, for
the weather was now intensely cold. She was alone, quite alone, all
the other girls in the school, both the actors and those who were to
look on, being far to busy to attend to her. She took up a book
languidly and pretended to read. She had already rea