after-days, in long after-years when the memory of Lavender House was
to come back to Hetty Thornton as one of the sweetest, brightest episodes
in her existence--in the days when she was to know almost every blade of
grass in the gardens, and to be familiar with each corner of the old
house, with each face which now appeared so strange, she might wonder at
her feelings to-night, but never even then could she forget them.

She sat at the table in a dream, trying to eat the tasteless bread and
butter. Suddenly and swiftly the thick and somewhat stale piece of bread
on her plate was exchanged for a thin, fresh, and delicately-cut slice.

"Eat that," whispered a voice--"I know the other is horrid. It's a shame
of Perier to give such stuff to a stranger."

"Mdlle. Cecile, you are transgressing: you are talking English," came in
a torrent of rapid French from the head of the table. "You lose a conduct
mark, ma'amselle."

The young girl who sat next Hester inclined her head gently and
submissively, and Hester, venturing to glance at her, saw that a delicate
pink had spread itself over her pale face. She was a plain girl; but even
Hester, in this first moment of terror, could scarcely have been afraid
of her, so benign was her expression, so sweet the glance from her soft,
full brown eyes. Hester now further observed that the thin bread and
butter had been removed from Cecil's own plate. She began to wonder why
this girl was indulged with better food than the rest of her comrades.

Hester was beginning to feel a little less shy, and was taking one or two
furtive glances at her companions, when she suddenly felt herself turning
crimson, and all her agony of shyness and dislike to her school-life
returning. She encountered the full, bright, quizzical gaze of the girl
who had made personal remarks about her in the porter's room. The merry
black eyes of this gypsy maiden fairly twinkled with suppressed fun when
they met hers, and the bright head even nodded audaciously across the
table to her.

Not for worlds would Hester return this friendly greeting--she still held
to her opinion that Miss Forest was one of the most ill-bred people she
had ever met, and, in addition to feeling a considerable amount of fear
of her, she quite made up her mind that she would never be on friendly
terms with so under-bred a girl.

At this moment grace was repeated in sonorous tones by a stern-looking
person who sat at the foot of the long table,