the depths of her pocket,
"you're not to open this till I'm away, and be sure to take care of it,
and don't--"

"That there chimbley," interrupted the driver at this stage, "is the
fust 'ouse in Stonebridge."

Five minutes later we were standing in the hall of Stonebridge House.

It didn't look much like a school, I remember thinking. It was a large
straggling building, rather like a farmhouse, with low ceilings and
rickety stairs. The outside was neat, but not very picturesque, and the
front garden seemed to have about as much grass in it as the stairs had
carpets. As we stood waiting for some one to answer our ring, I
listened nervously, I remember, for any sound or trace of my fellow
"backward and troublesome boys," but the school appeared to be confined
to one of the long straggling wings behind, and not to encroach on the
state portion of the house.

After a second vigorous pull at the bell by our coachman, a stern and
scraggy female put in her appearance.

"Is this Frederick Batchelor?" she inquired, in tones which put my
juvenile back up instantly.

"Yes, this is Master Freddy," put in the nervous Mrs Hudson, anxious to
conciliate every one on my behalf. "Freddy, dear, say--"

"Is that his box?" continued the stern dame.

"Yes," said Mrs Hudson, feeling rather chilled; "that's his box."

"Nothing else?"

"No, except his umbrella, and a few--"

"Take the box up to my room," said the lady to a boy who appeared at
this moment. "Where is the key?"

"I've got that, marm," replied Mrs Hudson, warming up a little, "and I
should like to go over his things myself as they are unpacked."

"Wholly unnecessary," replied the female, holding out her hand for the
key. "I see to everything of that kind here."

"But I _mean_ to open the box!" cried Mrs Hudson, breaking out into a
passion quite unusual with her.

I, too, had been getting the steam up privately during the last few
minutes, and the sight of Mrs Hudson's agitation was enough to start
the train.

"Yes," said I, swelling out with indignation, "Mrs Hudson and I are
going to open the box. You sha'n't touch it!"

The female appeared to be not in the least put out by this little
display of feeling. In fact, she seemed used to it, for she stood
quietly with her arms folded, apparently waiting till we both of us
thought fit to subside.

Poor Mrs Hudson was no match for this sort of battle. She lost her
control, and expressed herself of things