from the study
of the Second Book of Chronicles. "Her little finger's thicker than her
whole body used to be, and, instead of whips, she chastises us with
scorpions. I want to go and bow the knee to Baal."

"Rather mixed up in your Scripture, child, but we understand your
meaning," laughed Verity. "The Bantam's certainly piling it on nowadays
in the way of prep."

"Shows an absolutely brutal lack of consideration," agreed Nora.

"So do all the mistresses," groaned Ingred. "Each of them seems to think
we've nothing to do but her own particular subject. Dr. Linton actually
asked me if I could practise two hours a day. Why, he might as well have
suggested four! I can only get the piano for an hour, even if I wanted
it longer. It's a frightful business at the hostel to cram in all our
practicing, isn't it? I nearly had a free fight with Janie Potter
yesterday. She commandeered the piano, and though I showed her the music
time-table, with my name down for '5 to 6' she wouldn't budge. I had to
tilt her off the stool in the end. It was like a game of musical chairs.
She wouldn't look at me to-day, she's so cross about it. Not that _I_
care in the least!"

Music was a favorite subject with Ingred, and one in which she excelled.
She would willingly have given more time to it, had the school
curriculum allowed. She was a good reader, and had a sympathetic, if
rather spidery touch. This term she had begun lessons with Dr. Linton,
who was considered the best master in Grovebury. He was organist at the
Abbey Church, and was not only a Doctor of Music, but a composer as
well. His anthems and cantatas were widely known, he conducted the local
choral society and trained the operatic society for the annual
performance. His time was generally very full, so he did not profess to
teach juniors; it was only after celebrating her fifteenth birthday that
Ingred had been eligible as one of his pupils. He had the reputation of
being peppery tempered, therefore she walked into the room to take her
first lesson with her heart performing a sort of jazz dance under her
jersey. Dr. Linton, like many musicians, was of an artistic and
excitable temperament, and highly eccentric. Instead of sitting by the
side of his new pupil, he paced the room, pursing his lips in and out,
and drawing his fingers through his long lank dark hair.

"Have you brought a piece with you," he inquired. "Then play to me. Oh,
never mind if you make mistakes! That's not