ur train?" asked
the mistress. "Why didn't you go and stand under the clock, as you were
told in the Head Mistress's letter? And don't you know that you must
_never_ address strangers?"

"She's angry with you for speaking to the Tommy," whispered Dona to
Marjorie, as the pair followed their new guardian.

"I can't help it. He would have got us a taxi, and now they're all gone,
and we must put up with a four-wheeler. I couldn't see any clock, and no
wonder we missed her in such a crowd. I think she's hateful, and I'm not
going to like her a scrap."

"No more am I," returned Dona.

CHAPTER II

Brackenfield College

Brackenfield College stood on the hills, about a mile from the
seaside town of Whitecliffe. It had been built for a school, and
was large and modern and entirely up-to-date. It had a gymnasium,
a library, a studio, a chemical laboratory, a carpentering-shop,
a kitchen for cooking-classes, a special block for music and
practising-rooms, and a large assembly hall. Outside there were
many acres of lawns and playing-fields, a large vegetable garden,
and a little wood with a stream running through it. The girls lived
in three hostels--for Seniors, Intermediates, and Juniors--known
respectively as St. Githa's, St. Elgiva's, and St. Ethelberta's.
They met in school and in the playgrounds, but, with a few exceptions,
they were not allowed to visit each other's houses.

Marjorie and Dona had been separated on their arrival, the former being
entered at St. Elgiva's and the latter at St. Ethelberta's, and it was
not until the afternoon of the day following that they had an
opportunity of meeting and comparing notes. To both life had seemed a
breathless and confusing whirl of classes, meals, and calisthenic
exercises, with a continual ringing of bells and marching from one room
to another. It was a comfort at last to have half an hour when they
might be allowed to wander about and do as they pleased.

"Let's scoot into that little wood," said Marjorie, seizing Dona by the
arm. "It looks quiet, and we can sit down and talk. Well, how are you
getting on? D'you like it so far?"

Dona flung herself down under a larch tree and shook her head
tragically.

"I hate it! But then, you know, I never expected to like it. You should
see my room-mates!"

"You should just see mine!"

"They can't be as bad as mine."

"I'll guarantee they're worse. But go on and tell about yours."

"There's Mona Kenworthy," sigh