sented the presence of thirty schoolgirls in the Manor, and kept
a keen eye upon them to see that they did no damage. She was continually
watching to satisfy herself that they were not scratching the furniture,
nor spilling candle-grease upon the stairs; and was loud in her
complaints to Miss Russell over the most absurd trifles.

If she had had sufficient authority, I believe she would have limited
the girls entirely to their bedrooms and schoolrooms, but as that was
impossible, she did her best to frighten them away from the rest of the
house by being as disagreeable as she could. As a natural consequence
they detested her. They nicknamed her "The Griffin", and took a naughty
pleasure in defying her as far as they dared.

"She's as sour as a green gooseberry!" grumbled Effie Hargreaves. "If we
only take a stroll along the portrait gallery, she thinks we're going to
knock down the armour, or poke our fingers through the pictures."

"Yes, she seems to imagine we can't look at a thing without breaking it.
It's perfectly ridiculous!" declared Beryl Austen.

"She's an absolute nuisance. It's a pity she was left behind," said Nora
Proctor; and that was the general verdict in the old housekeeper's
disfavour.

With such a dragon continually on the alert, it was almost impossible
for Lindsay and Cicely to find the slightest opportunity of beginning
their treasure hunt, and they were reduced to very low spirits on the
subject. One half-holiday afternoon, however, Lindsay reported that Mrs.
Wilson, dressed in black bonnet and mantle, had been seen to leave the
back door and walk away in the direction of the village.

"Now is our chance!" she assured Cicely. "Miss Russell is lying down in
her bedroom with a bad headache, Miss Frazer is playing tennis, and
Mademoiselle is sitting reading in the arbour. Everyone else is in the
garden, and if we run indoors at once nobody will notice, and we shall
have the place practically to ourselves."

Could anything have been more fortunate? They lost no time in hurrying
into the Manor, feeling almost as desperate conspirators as Guy Fawkes
and his confederates; and commenced immediately to make a careful tour
of investigation. They stole round the hall, the dining-room, and the
library, scrutinizing every nook and corner, tapping the panels to hear
if they sounded hollow, and peeping up the old wide chimneys, but all
with no success.

"I'm afraid we shan't find anything down here," sai