nderstand."

"Has not your mother told you about my, alas! unavoidable change of
plans?"

"I have, Susan, I have," said the widow, in an eager, deprecating
voice. "I told dear Florry the day after her arrival. By doing
without meat and fruits and vegetables I contrived to pay her
third-class fare from Cherry Court School to Dawlish, and on the night
of her arrival I told her about your sensible letter."

"H'm, I am glad you think it sensible," said Mrs. Aylmer; "sensible or
not, it is unavoidable. You leave Cherry Court School at the end of
next term, Florence, and I am about to write to your governess, Mrs.
Clavering, to give her due notice of your removal. I hope, my dear,
you have profited much by the excellent education which I have given
you during the last three years."

"I don't know that," replied Florence, in a sulky tone. "Where is the
good," she said to herself, "of trying to please this horrid Aunt
Susan, and I quite hate Mummy to fawn on her the way she is doing. I
at least cannot stoop to it. No; and I will not."

"You have not profited by your time at school," replied Mrs. Aylmer the
great; "what do you mean?"

"I have done my best, of course," replied Florence, "but I am quite a
young girl still, only just fifteen. Girls of fifteen are not
educated, are they, Aunt Susan? Were you educated when you were
fifteen?"

"Oh, Flo, Flo," said the mother, in a voice of agony; "pray do forgive
her, Susan."

"I wish you wouldn't interrupt, Mabel," said Mrs. Aylmer, lying back in
her luxurious chair as she spoke, and folding her fat hands across her
lap. "I like Florence to speak out. I hate people to fawn on me."

"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Aylmer the less. She rolled her black eyes,
then lowered them and fixed them on the carpet. It was impossible to
understand Susan, she was a most extraordinary woman. If, after all,
Florry was on the right track and won the day!

"Girls of fifteen are not specially well educated," proceeded Mrs.
Aylmer, fixing her eyes again upon Florence's face, which was now a
little red; "and I don't intend your education to be finished. I have
been fortunate enough to gain you admittance into an excellent school
for the daughters of the poor clergy. You are to go as a pupil
teacher; you will not receive any remuneration for the first two years,
but you can continue to have lessons in music, French, and German."

"And what about English?" said Florence.

"You are t