ung creatures,
skurrying along bags in hand, and bright eyes glancing to right and
left. At every step forward there would come a fresh recognition, a nod
of the head, a wave of the hand, a quick "Halloa!" more eloquent than
elegant. Rhoda felt a spasm of loneliness at the realisation that no
greeting waited for herself, and at the strangeness of the many faces.
She looked critically around and came to the most unfavourable
conclusions.

"I don't like that one--she's a fright! I hate that one--she's so
affected. Those two look common; I won't have anything to do with
_them_. The big one with spectacles looks horribly learned. The one
with the violin has a most unmusical face. _She_ looks fit for
stratagems if you like! The little one in brown is a cunning fox, I can
see it in her eyes. Of all the plain, uninteresting, stodgy set of
girls--"

There was a movement inside the saloon carriage opposite, and a large
mamma clad in black, with a profusion of bugles, stepped on to the
platform and marched stolidly away. She steered a course clear of the
crowd of girls, the ends of her mantle floating behind her, like a brig
in full sail before the breeze, while her poor little daughter hung out
of the doorway gazing after her, sobbing bitterly, and mouthing in
pathetic, helpless misery.

Mrs Chester began to cry at once in sympathy, and even Rhoda felt a
smarting of the eyes. It was coming! The crucial moment was at hand;
the bell was ringing, the girls were crowding into the carriages, the
governess stepped forward and spoke a warning word.

"You had better come now, dear! Please take your seat."

Rhoda turned and bent her tall young head to her little mother, but
neither spoke--the tension was too great. Mrs Chester's face was
tremulous with agitation, the girl's white and defiant. Then she
stepped into the carriage and seated herself among the crowd of
strangers. The girls were all silent now, pale of face and red of eye,
a few crying openly, the majority fighting against emotion. The mothers
came to the edge of the platform, and stared in through the windows.

"It is like looking at animals in a cage," said Rhoda to herself, and
then the wheels began to move, she saw her mother's quivering face--saw
it from a distance--saw it no more--and realised for the first time,
with a great, bitter pang of anguish, the meaning of farewell!

She had not intended to cry, she had never believed it possible that sh