nce for the coming term), but it remained "select"
in the truest sense of the word. It was not an institution
particularly for the daughters of wealthy people, nor a school to which
disheartened parents could send either unruly girls, or dunces.

Without Mrs. Murchiston's recommendation Helen Cameron could not have
gained entrance to Briarwood; without the attested examination papers
of Miss Cramp, teacher of the district school, who had prepared Ruth
for entering Cheslow High School before it was supposed that she could
go to Briarwood, the girl from the Red Mill would not have been
starting on this journey.

"My goodness me!" exclaimed Helen, when Ruth had sat down and Cheslow
was coming into view before them. "I'm just as excited as I can be.
Aren't you afraid of meeting Mrs. Tellingham? She's got an A. B. after
her name. And her husband is a doctor of almost everything you can
think!"

Mrs. Murchiston smiled, but said with some sternness; "I really hope,
Helen, that Briarwood will quell your too exuberant spirits to a
degree. But you need not be afraid of Dr. Tellingham. He is the
mildest old gentleman one ever saw. He is doubtless engaged upon a
history of the Mound Builders of Peoria County, Illinois; or upon a
pamphlet suggested by the finding of a fossilized man in the caves of
Arizona."

"Is he a great writer, Mrs. Murchiston?" asked Ruth, wonderingly.

"He has written a great many histories--if that constitutes being a
great writer," replied the governess, with a quiet smile. "But if it
was not for Mrs. Tellingham I fear that Briarwood Hall could not exist.
However, the doctor is a perfectly harmless person."

From this Ruth drew the conclusion (for she was a thoughtful
girl--thoughtful beyond her years, as well as imaginative) that Mrs.
Grace Tellingham was a rather strong-minded lady and that the doctor
would prove to be both mild and "hen-pecked."

The car sped along the beautifully shaded road leading into Cheslow;
but there was still ample time for the travelers to catch the train.
On the right hand, as they advanced, appeared a gloomy-looking house
with huge pillars upholding the portico roof, which was set some
distance back from the road. On two posts, one either side of the
arched gateway, were set green lanterns. A tall, stoop-shouldered old
gentleman, with a sweeping mustache and hair that touched his coat
collar, and a pair of keen, dark eyes, came striding down the walk to
the s