anxious glance at the blooming face reflected in the mirror
opposite.

'Are you stronger or weaker than when you came two years ago, Miss
Winthrop?'

'Stronger in body, and much happier in mind. I think I was dying of
ennui; but the doctors called it inherited delicacy of constitution.
That is why mamma is so anxious, and I wish not to go too fast.'

'Don't worry, my dear; that active brain of yours was starving for good
food; it has plenty now, and plain living suits you better than luxury
and dissipation. It is all nonsense about girls not being able to study
as well as boys. Neither can bear cramming; but with proper care both
are better for it; so enjoy the life your instinct led you to, and we
will prove that wise headwork is a better cure for that sort of delicacy
than tonics, and novels on the sofa, where far too many of our girls
go to wreck nowadays. They burn the candle at both ends; and when they
break down they blame the books, not the balls.'

'Dr Nan was telling me about a patient of hers who thought she had
heart-complaint, till Nan made her take off her corsets, stopped her
coffee and dancing all night, and made her eat, sleep, walk, and live
regularly for a time; and now she's a brilliant cure. Common sense
versus custom, Nan said.'

'I've had no headaches since I came here, and can do twice as much
studying as I did at home. It's the air, I think, and the fun of going
ahead of the boys,' said another girl, tapping her big forehead with
her thimble, as if the lively brain inside was in good working order and
enjoyed the daily gymnastics she gave it.

'Quality, not quantity, wins the day, you know. Our brains may be
smaller, but I don't see that they fall short of what is required of
them; and if I'm not mistaken, the largest-headed man in our class is
the dullest,' said Nelly, with a solemn air which produced a gale of
merriment; for all knew that the young Goliath she mentioned had been
metaphorically slain by this quick-witted David on many a battle-field,
to the great disgust of himself and his mates.

'Mrs Brooke, do I gauge on the right or the wrong side?' asked the
best Greek scholar of her class, eyeing a black silk apron with a lost
expression.

'The right, Miss Pierson; and leave a space between the tucks; it looks
prettier so.'

'I'll never make another; but it will save my dresses from ink-stains,
so I'm glad I've got it'; and the erudite Miss Pierson laboured on,
finding it a ha