ecover her voice.

"And the subject, Miss Drake--what is to be the subject?"

Miss Drake smiled quietly.

"The subject is a very big one, and one on which the youngest girl is as
competent to write as the oldest. No one can plead ignorance on this
point, or if she does no outsider can give her enlightenment. The
subject, chosen by Mr Rawdon himself, is `My Life--and how I mean to
use it.'"

A subdued murmur sounded in the room, the chief notes of which were
wonder and dismay. The girls looked at each other with startled looks,
their lips fell apart, a blank, half-stupefied expression settled on
their faces, as though they found themselves confronted by a task with
which they had no power to grapple. But Susan's brown eyes shone like
stars; she clasped her little hands tightly together beneath her desk.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

For the next few days conversation circled incessantly round the subject
of the forthcoming literary competition, concerning which there were
naturally many diverging opinions. "My life, indeed! _Well_, my first
principle has always been `One thing at a time, and that done well.'
I'm cramming for an exam., and have no time to waste on meanderings,"
declared Barbara, whose compositions invariably received the lowest
marks in her form, while Nancy smiled her enigmatical smile, and stared
mysteriously into space.

"I shall write it, of course, but I shall not put in my _real_
sentiments. It would not be fair to my future. If my plans are to
succeed they demand secrecy--breathless, inviolate secrecy, until the
hour arrives!"

"Gracious, Nancy! You talk as if you were an Anarchist in disguise!"
gasped a horrified voice from the far corner of the fireside round which
the girls were assembled, whereupon the gratified Nancy endeavoured to
look more mysterious than ever.

"Why in disguise? Is there anything in my appearance which is out of
keeping with a life of noble rebellion against tyranny and oppression?
A bomb may be often a blessing in disguise, but there is so much narrow
prejudice and ignorance in this world that people must be trained to
appreciate the true meaning. Till that hour arrives my life's ambition
must remain locked within my own breast!"

"I haven't got one--at least, only to have a good time and be done with
work. You couldn't put _that_ in an essay. It sounds so mean,"
confessed blue-eyed Flora with a sigh. Dreda looked at her quickly, and
as quickly averted