t do you think of that?" said Agatha, displaying the page.

They read it, and protested clamorously.

"It is perfectly true," said Agatha, solemnly.

"It's beastly mean," said Jane energetically. "The idea of your finding
fault with Gertrude, and then going and being twice as bad yourself! I
never heard of such a thing in my life."

"'Thus bad begins; but worse remains behind,' as the Standard
Elocutionist says," said Agatha, adding another sentence to her
confession.

"But it was all my fault. Also I was rude to Miss Wilson, and refused
to leave the room when she bade me. I was not wilfully wrong except in
sliding down the banisters. I am so fond of a slide that I could not
resist the temptation."

"Be warned by me, Agatha," said Jane impressively. "If you write cheeky
things in that book, you will be expelled."

"Indeed!" replied Agatha significantly. "Wait until Miss Wilson sees
what you have written."

"Gertrude," cried Jane, with sudden misgiving, "has she made me write
anything improper? Agatha, do tell me if--"

Here a gong sounded; and the three girls simultaneously exclaimed
"Grub!" and rushed from the room.

CHAPTER II

One sunny afternoon, a hansom drove at great speed along Belsize Avenue,
St. John's Wood, and stopped before a large mansion. A young lady sprang
out; ran up the steps, and rang the bell impatiently. She was of the
olive complexion, with a sharp profile: dark eyes with long lashes;
narrow mouth with delicately sensuous lips; small head, feet, and hands,
with long taper fingers; lithe and very slender figure moving with
serpent-like grace. Oriental taste was displayed in the colors of her
costume, which consisted of a white dress, close-fitting, and printed
with an elaborate china blue pattern; a yellow straw hat covered with
artificial hawthorn and scarlet berries; and tan-colored gloves reaching
beyond the elbow, and decorated with a profusion of gold bangles.

The door not being opened immediately, she rang again, violently, and
w as presently admitted by a maid, who seemed surprised to see her.
Without making any inquiry, she darted upstairs into a drawing-room,
where a matron of good presence, with features of the finest Jewish
type, sat reading. With her was a handsome boy in black velvet, who
said:

"Mamma, here's Henrietta!"

"Arthur," said the young lady excitedly, "leave the room this instant;
and don't dare to come back until you get leave."

The boy's countena