have had nicer feelings than to do this. I
can never think the same of you and Beth again."

"Oh, of course you take up the cudgels for your precious Cuckoo!"
snapped Stephanie. "Don't make such an absurd fuss. I shall do what I
like, without you setting yourself up to lecture me. So there! If you
don't like it, you may lump it."

"Not a very aristocratic form of expression for a scion of the Radfords
of Stoke Radford!" commented Lizzie, as she and Ulyth stalked away.

CHAPTER XII

Sentry Duty

The spring term wore slowly on. March winds came and went, taking the
sweet violets with them, but leaving golden Lent lilies and a wealth of
primroses as a legacy to April. The larch forest above Porth Powys was a
tangle of green tassels, the hedgerows were starry with blackthorn, and
the _Pyrus japonica_ over the dining-room windows was a mass of rosy
blossom. Spring was always a delightful season at The Woodlands; with
the longer days came rambles and greater freedom. Popular opinion ran
high in extolling country life, and any girl who ventured to prefer town
pleasures found herself entirely in the minority.

Rona had several invitations for the Easter holidays, one from Mrs.
Stanton among the number; but Miss Bowes, thinking it better for Ulyth
to have a rest from her room-mate's presence, decided in favour of
Winnie Fowler. Ulyth could not help feeling a sense of relief that the
matter was thus settled. Rona was very little trouble to her
now--indeed, she rather liked her company; but she would be glad to have
her mother to herself for the few short weeks.

"I wouldn't for the world have tried to stop her coming, Motherkins,"
she wrote home; "but Miss Bowes said most emphatically that she must go
to the Fowlers. I'm sure they'll give her a good time, and--well, I
admit it will be a rest to me. Just at present I don't want to share
you. Now you know the whole of your horrid daughter! Lizzie asked me if
I would spend part of the holidays with her, but I managed to make an
excuse. I felt I couldn't spare a single precious day away from you. I
have so much to talk about and tell you. Am I greedy? But what's the use
of having one's own lovely mother if she isn't just one's ownest
sometimes? I tell you things I wouldn't tell anyone else on earth. I
don't think all the girls feel quite the same; but then their mothers
can't possibly be like mine! She's the one in a thousand! I'm sitting up
late in my bedroom to wri