enfield, as you are aware, will soon celebrate its tenth birthday.
During all these years of its existence it has always prided itself upon
the extremely high reputation in respect of manners and conduct which
its pupils have maintained in the neighbourhood. So far, at
Whitecliffe, the name of a Brackenfield girl has been synonymous with
perfectly and absolutely ladylike behaviour. There are other schools in
the town, and it is possible that there may be among them some spirit of
rivalry towards Brackenfield. The inhabitants or visitors at Whitecliffe
will naturally notice any party of girls who are proceeding in line
through the town, they will note their school hats, observe their
conduct, and judge accordingly the establishment from which they come.
Every girl when on parade has the reputation of Brackenfield in her
keeping. So strong has been the spirit not only of loyalty to the
school, but of innate good breeding, that up to this day our traditions
have never yet been broken. I say sorrowfully up till to-day, for this
very afternoon an event has occurred which, in the estimation of myself
and my colleagues, has trailed our Brackenfield standards in the dust.
Sixteen girls, who under privilege of a parade exeat visited
Whitecliffe, have behaved in a manner which fills me with astonishment
and disgust. That they could so far forget themselves as to break line,
rush on to the shore, crowd round and address a perfect stranger, passes
my comprehension, and this under the eyes of two other schools who were
walking along the promenade, and who must have been justly amazed and
shocked. The girls who this afternoon were on exeat parade will kindly
stand up."

Sixteen conscience-stricken miserable sinners rose to their feet, and,
feeling themselves the centre for more than two hundred pairs of eyes,
yearned for the earth to yawn and swallow them up. Mrs. Morrison
regarded them for a moment or two in silence.

"Each of you will now go to her own house and fetch the autograph she
secured," continued the mistress grimly. "I give you three minutes."

There was a hurried exit, and the school sat and waited until the
luckless sixteen returned.

"Bring them to me!" commanded Mrs. Morrison, and in turn each girl
handed over her slip of paper with the magic signature "Henri Raoul
Devereux". The Principal placed them together, then, her eyes flashing,
tore them into shreds.

"Girls who have deliberately broken rules, defied the