e, called
FAUST? I saw it over there by the door.--What lovely books!"

But here Mr. Strachey abruptly changed his seat, and Laura's thirst for
information was left unquenched.

The evening passed, and she was in blessed ignorance of anything being
amiss, till the next morning after breakfast she was bidden to Mrs.
Gurley.

A quarter of an hour later, on her emerging from that lady's private
sitting-room, her eyes were mere swollen slits in her face. Instead,
however, of sponging them in cold water and bravely joining her
friends, Laura was still foolish enough to hide and have her cry out.
So that when the bell rang, she was obliged to go in to public prayers
looking a prodigious fright, and thereby advertising to the curious
what had taken place.

Mrs. Gurley had crushed and humiliated her. Laura learnt that she had
been guilty of a gross impertinence, in profaning the ears of the
Principal and Mrs. Strachey with Thalberg's music, and that all the
pieces she had brought with her from home would now be taken from her.
Secondly, Mr. Strachey had been so unpleasantly impressed by the
boldness of her behaviour, that she would not be invited to the
drawing-room again for some time to come.

The matter of the music touched Laura little: if they preferred their
dull old exercises to what she had offered them, so much the worse for
them. But the reproach cast on her manners stung her even more deeply
than it had done when she was still the raw little newcomer: for she
had been pluming herself of late that she was now "quite the thing".

And yet, painful as was this fresh overthrow of her pride, it was
neither the worst nor the most lasting result of the incident. That
concerned her schoolfellows. By the following morning the tale of her
doings was known to everyone. It was circulated in the first place, no
doubt, by Lilith Gordon, who bore her a grudge for her offer to
accompany the song: had Laura not put herself forward in this
objectionable way, Lilith might have escaped singing altogether. Lilith
also resented her having shown that she could do it--and this feeling
was generally shared. It evidenced a want of good-fellowship, and made
you very glad the little prig had afterwards come to grief: if you had
abilities that others had not you concealed them, instead of parading
them under people's noses.

In short, Laura had committed a twofold breach of school etiquette. No
one of course vouchsafed to explain this to