te typically hybrid.

Whatever incipient anticipations of the girl herself he might have
entertained during his ride were immediately dissipated as soon as
Adelle entered the drawing-room from the class whence she had been
summoned. She was a little larger, perhaps, than he remembered her, but
essentially the same awkward, homely child, and she was now wearing an
ugly harness upon her teeth that further disfigured her. Mr. Ashly Crane
was an observant man, and he became at once merely the business man,
solely intent upon performing his duty and getting back to Albany in
time to catch his train. He presented his roses, which Adelle took from
him clumsily and allowed to lie across her lap, while with legs spread
apart to sustain their burden she listened to what he had to say. Mr.
Crane explained to her briefly Mr. Gardiner's retirement and his own
recent elevation to the post of being her nominal guardian, and then
inquired if everything was satisfactory in the school. When Adelle
replied, yes, she guessed so, he observed that the Hall was prettily
located above the river with a good view and that a girl ought to have a
fine time in such a pleasant country.

"What do you do with yourself when you are not studying?" he concluded
in a patronizing tone.

"Oh," Adelle responded vaguely, "I don't know. Nothing much--read some
and take walks."

The new trust officer was enough of a human being to realize the
emptiness of this reply, and for a few moments was puzzled. This was a
woman's job, rather than a man's, he reflected sagely. However, being a
man he must do the best he could to win the girl's confidence, and after
all Herndon Hall had the highest reputation.

"They treat you right?" he inquired bluntly.

The girl murmured something in assent, because she could think of
nothing better to say. It was quite impossible for her to phrase the
sense of misery and indignity that was nearly constant in her mind.

"The teachers are kind?" the trust officer pursued.

"I guess so," she said, with a dumb look that made him uncomfortable.

He rose nervously and walked across the room. As he gazed out of the
open window at the distant prospect across the "Noble River" (so
described in the dainty leaflet sent forth by the school) "from the
ivy-shrouded old stone Hall," he caught sight of a party of girls riding
off on horseback for their daily excursion. That gave him an idea.

"You ride, too?" he inquired, turning again to t