I try to, a little," said Hester, "but it seems all very strange just
now."

"No doubt it does, and at first you will have to encounter many
perplexities and to fight many battles. Never mind, if you have the right
spirit within you, you will come out on the winning side. Now, tell me,
have you made any acquaintances as yet among the girls?"

"Yes--Cecil Temple has been kind to me."

"Cecil is one of my dearest pupils; cultivate her friendship, Hester--she
is honorable, she is sympathizing. I am not afraid to say that Cecil has
a great heart."

"There is another girl," continued Hester, "who has spoken to me. I need
not make her my friend, need I?"

"Who is she, dear?"

"Miss Forest--I don't like her."

"What! our school favorite. You will change your mind, I expect--but that
is the gong for prayers. You shall come with me to chapel, to-night, and
I will introduce you to Mr. Everard."

CHAPTER VI.

"I AM UNHAPPY."

Between forty and fifty young girls assembled night and morning for
prayers in the pretty chapel which adjoined Lavender House. This chapel
had been reconstructed from the ruins of an ancient priory, on the site
of which the house was built. The walls, and even the beautiful eastern
window, belonged to a far-off date. The roof had been carefully reared in
accordance with the style of the east window, and the whole effect was
beautiful and impressive. Mrs. Willis was particularly fond of her own
chapel. Here she hoped the girls' best lessons might be learned, and here
she had even once or twice brought a refractory pupil, and tried what a
gentle word or two spoken in these old and sacred walls might effect.
Here, on wet Sundays the girls assembled for service; and here, every
evening at nine o'clock, came the vicar of the large parish to which
Lavender House belonged, to conduct evening prayers. He was an old man,
and a great friend of Mrs. Willis', and he often told her that he
considered these young girls some of the most important members of his
flock.

Here Hester knelt to-night. It is to be doubted whether in her confusion,
and in the strange loneliness which even Mrs. Willis had scarcely
removed, she prayed much. It is certain she did not join in the evening
hymn, which, with the aid of an organ and some sweet girl-voices, was
beautifully and almost pathetically rendered. After evening prayers had
come to an end, Mrs. Willis took Hester's hand and led her up to the old,
white-heade