rry for it, for I think all the rest of us feel how much that is
fine and noble might--may still be brought out of that untamed spirit.
She has never known a mother, remember. The name of the Scapegoat, which
she has given herself, may, I sometimes think, reflect blame on the rest
of us as well as on her. It is true that, whatever mischief is afoot, it
is sure to be laid at Grace's door. This is mainly her own fault, of
course--"

"I should think so!" snorted Miss Pugsley.

"But not entirely," the Principal went on. "There are other mischievous
girls in the school. I should like to know how Grace has been doing this
month in her various classes," she added, turning to the other teachers.

On this point the testimony was unanimous. Grace Wolfe led many of the
classes; she was well up in all, and had passed her examinations in a
way that did credit both to her intelligence and her industry. Thus
testified every teacher, except the small brown mouse who taught drawing
in Pentland School. This mouse, Miss Mink by name, had crept away
silently, and left the room, after one glance at the hand-glass; she
knew that but one hand in the school could have drawn that monkey, and
though her heart swelled with pride, she feared for her darling pupil.

There was a pause after the teachers had given their testimony; then
Miss Pugsley returned to the attack.

"I certainly hope justice will be done, Miss Russell," she said, with a
smile of sweetened vinegar. "It would be a great pity, wouldn't it, if
the school got the reputation--he! he!--of injustice and favouritism?"

"It would," said the Principal, gravely.

"But there is another matter that I feel bound to speak of before we
separate," Miss Pugsley went on. "Are you aware that room No. 18, in
corridor A, the room formerly occupied by Miss Lightwood, is again being
used as a place of exit for parties of students going on lawless
expeditions?"

The Principal looked at her steadily.

"I fear that is true," said one of the other teachers. "I had meant to
speak to you before about it, Miss Russell, but waited till to-night."

"Of course it makes no possible difference to me!" cried Miss Pugsley.
"It is not my corridor, and I have no authority there; but as long as
one is in the school, of course one must consider the honour of it, you
know, and I am glad some one else is here to bear me out in _this_
complaint."

The Principal still looked at Miss Pugsley; teachers who had be