clock tower; while
opposite was the School House, where Miss Cavendish herself presided
over a chosen fifty of her two hundred pupils. The two sides of the
square were occupied by four houses, named respectively St. Aldwyth's,
St. Hilary's, St. Chad's, and St. Bride's, each being in charge of a
mistress, and capable of accommodating from thirty to forty girls.
Though the whole school met together every day for lessons, the members
of each different house resembled a separate family, and were keenly
anxious to maintain the honour of their particular establishment. Miss
Cavendish did not wish to excite rivalry, yet she thought a spirit of
friendly emulation was on the whole salutary, and encouraged matches
between the various house teams, or competitions among the choral and
debating societies. The rules for all were exactly similar. Every
morning, at a quarter to seven, a clanging bell rang in the passages
for a sufficient length of time to disturb even the soundest of
slumbers; breakfast was at half-past seven, and at half-past eight
everybody was due in chapel for a short service; lectures and classes
occupied the morning from nine till one, and the afternoon was devoted
to games; tea was at four, and supper at half-past seven, with
preparation in between; and after that hour came sewing and recreation,
until bedtime. It was a well-arranged and reasonable division of time,
calculated to include right proportions of work and play. _Mens sana
in corpore sano_ was Miss Cavendish's favourite motto, and the clean
bill of health, the successes in examinations, and the high moral tone
that prevailed throughout pointed to the fulfilment of her ideal. Most
of the girls were thoroughly happy at Chessington College, and, though
it is in girl nature to grumble at rules and lessons, there was
scarcely one who would have cared to leave it if she had been given the
opportunity.

It was to this new, interesting, and exciting world of school that
Honor unclosed her eyes on the morning after her arrival. She opened
them sleepily, and, I regret to say, promptly shut them again, and
turned over comfortably in bed, regardless of the vigorous bell that
was delivering its warning in the passage. Punctuality had not been
counted a cardinal virtue at Kilmore Castle, and she saw no special
necessity for rising until she felt inclined. She had just dropped off
again into a delicious doze when once more her peace was rudely
disturbed. The curtai