ings
were absolutely too much for her, she took her skirt in her hands, and
began to dance an old-fashioned Kerry hornpipe, humming a lively Irish
tune to supply the music.

The girls stared in amazement at the mad performance. "She's showing
off!" declared some, but others laughed, and watched with a kind of
fascination, for the dance was striking and original, and the movements
were unusually graceful.

Honor's triumph, however, was short-lived. Vivian Holmes forced her way
through the crowd, and, laying her hand on the shoulder of the
obstreperous new-comer, told her to report herself at once in Miss
Cavendish's study. The lookers-on scuttled away to their classes
without being told; they were half-ashamed of having taken so much
notice of a new girl. Lettice Talbot, turning round, caught a glimpse
of Honor walking blithely away, with a jaunty smile on her face.

"As if a visit to the head mistress meant nothing at all!" she gasped.

"She'll soon find out her mistake," replied Ruth Latimer grimly. "Miss
Cavendish can reduce one to a quaking jelly when she feels inclined."

Honor was in one of her wildest, most reckless moods, and the prospect
of a passage of arms with the principal of the College was as the call
of battle to a knight of old. In her conflicts with her governesses at
home she had invariably come off best, and it pleased her to think she
had now the opportunity of trying her will in opposition to that of the
ruler of this little kingdom.

Miss Cavendish's study was a beautiful and unusual room. It was built
in accordance with an old-world design, and in shape resembled an
ancient chapter-house. The richly carved chimney-piece, the dark
panelling of the walls, and the straight-backed oak chairs helped to
carry out the prevailing note of mediaevalism, which was further
enhanced by a large, stained-glass window, filled with figures of
saints, that faced the doorway. To enter was like going into the peace
and serenity of some old cathedral, and, notwithstanding her defiant
frame of mind, a feeling of something akin to reverence crept over
Honor as she crossed the threshold. Her impressionable Celtic
temperament could not fail to be influenced by outward surroundings:
she had a great love of the beautiful, and this room satisfied her
aesthetic tastes.

[Illustration: AN INTERVIEW WITH MISS CAVENDISH]

The head mistress was standing beside the hearth, which, though devoid
of fire at this season of t