the general practice. On my going down to
the school-room on the first day that the work of "the decorations"
began, which was the very morning after my return from the continent, I
found things just as they had been in previous years, save that some
half-a-dozen panes of glass had been smashed in the oriel window at the
eastern end of the room, through the incautious manipulation of a bunch
of holly by some "green" hand.

There were the usual number of young ladies, all of whose faces I knew
so well, engaged in the pious work; with Horner, Mr Mawley the curate,
and one or _two_ other attendant male aides, to minister to their
needs--such as stripping off leaves for wreath making--and help them to
flirt the dull hours away. Dear little Miss Pimpernell, our vicar's
maiden sister and good right hand, presided, also, to preserve order and
set an example for industrious souls to follow, just as she had been in
the habit of presiding as far back as I could recollect.

She was not there merely as a chaperon. Oh no! If Lady Dasher, sitting
on an upturned form in a corner, like a very melancholy statue of
Patience, was not sufficient to prevent the prudent proprieties from
being outraged, there was, also, the "model of all the virtues"
present--Miss Spight--a lady of a certain age, who, believing, as the
kindly beings of her order do, that there was too large a flow of the
milk of human kindness current in the world, deemed it her mission to
temper this dispensation by the admixture of as much vitriol and vinegar
as in her lay: she succeeded pretty well, too, for that matter, in her
practice and belief.

Little Miss Pimpernell was quite a different sort of body altogether to
Miss Spight. Every one who knew her, or ever saw her kindly face, loved
her and venerated her.

She was the very impersonification of good-nature, good-will, and good
action. Did any misfortune chance to befall some one with whom she was
acquainted, or any casual stranger with whom she might be brought in
contact, there was none of that "I told you so" spirit of philosophy
about _her_.

No; she tried to do her best for the sufferer as well as she was able;
and would not be contented until she was absolutely satisfied that
matters had somewhat mended.

Young and old, rich and poor, alike considered her as one of their best
friends--as indeed she was--a good Samaritan to whom they might always
confide their griefs and ailments, their sufferings a