d the sight of her scholars had banished all other
thoughts but practical ones as to the conduct of the afternoon lesson.

A sudden turn brought the young mistress in front of her school. It
was a humble enough affair--a mere shed in fact, built on to the end of
Mrs. McAravey's cottage, and adorned over the door with a plainly
printed sign-board, "Tor Glen National School." But the place did not
look uncared for. The school indeed was bare enough, and surrounded by
a brown wilderness, in which the children used to play, but the
adjoining dwelling-house was made green and warm with ivy and fuschia,
while the little garden was neat, and for April almost gay.

To her surprise, Elsie's ear caught no sweet clamour of children at
play; there was indeed a sound of voices, and as she turned the corner
some dozen eager voices cried together, "Here she is; here's mistress."

Elsie stepped hastily forward, fearing some mischief, and then paused
as she saw the two strange ladies standing in the midst of an admiring
and wondering group of children, while the guide stood by, a pony
bridle in each hand.

In a moment one of the ladies had pushed through the little circle and
seized the girl's hand.

"Elsie Damer! I 'm your godmother, Eleanor More. I 'm so glad."

Poor Elsie knew not where she was, or what it meant, and could find no
better thing to say than "Your ladyship!"

"There, don't talk like that," was the quick reply; "I'm so glad we've
met at length. What a sweet little nest this is, hidden away from the
world by these great cliffs. We were fortunate, too, to find you out
so soon," continued Lady Eleanor, who, perceiving that Elsie had not
recovered the sudden shock and embarrassment, considerately gave rein
to her power of speech, which was by no means limited.

"We met a nice little fellow on the top of the hill, and I asked him
whether he knew where Elsie Damer lived. I stupidly forgot about the
name, so he answered 'Now.' Then I remembered, and asked about Mrs.
McAravey. 'It's teacher she 's askin' for,' said a little girl who had
come up. Then I saw it was all right, and so we all came tumbling down
the hill together."

"I saw you," said Elsie, "in the distance, but of course I had no idea
who it was. How very kind you have been to me!" and again the tears
were trembling in the nervous eyes of the poor, overwrought girl.

Lady Constance had now joined them, and the children stood around, all
eyes an