dressed as "Tom," and Rhoda from her seat opposite, read the words,
"Thomasina Bolderston," upon the label of the bag, and reflected that
she had never heard a name more entirely appropriate to its owner. It
was at once so ugly, so uncommon, and so arresting to the memory, while
Tom herself, once seen, could never be forgotten, nor confounded with
another girl. There she sat, the keen autumn air blanching her cheeks
and reddening her eyes, her arms crossed squarely over her bag, her lips
twitching with mischievous enjoyment. She had but to roll her eyes, and
the girls went into fresh convulsions of laughter; and when, at the
entrance to "Hurst" grounds, she took out her handkerchief and affected
to sob, the merriment reached an almost hysterical pitch. Rhoda,
however, failed to appreciate the humour of the joke, being inclined to
cry in good truth as the grim doorway yawned before her, and she caught
a glimpse of the chill, grey hall, so different from the glowing warmth
of her own dear home.

Dorothy gripped her arm in sympathetic fashion as they alighted and fell
into position in the long line of girls, who had suddenly thrown off
their hoyden airs, and assumed a demeanour of severe propriety. The
queue wended its serpentine course down the hall itself, and across a
smaller corridor to the head of the great staircase, where stood a lady
in a black silk dress, and a cap with lavender ribbons, crowning bands
of iron-grey hair. She was in reality small of stature, but she held
herself with an air which gave her the appearance of being six feet high
at least, and as she shook hands with each girl she addressed to her a
word of greeting.

"How do you do, Mary? Glad to see you, Kathleen. Hope you are better,
Ella. Welcome back, Carrie!" and so on, and so on. Occasionally there
came a hesitation, and the greeting terminated without a name being
added, but whenever this was the case there was a knitting of the brows
which showed distinct annoyance. Miss Bruce evidently took a pride in
remembering her pupils, and was hard on herself for any forgetfulness.
When it came to the turn of the new girls, she detained them a moment to
hope they would be happy, before waving them forward with an encouraging
smile.

"That's what we call being `presented.' She is the Queen, and on the
next landing are `the Lords,' and on the second `the Commons,'"
whispered a girl, who being herself only in her second term was not
averse f