se. At a door just at the foot, Mrs.
Gurley paused and smoothed her already faultless bands of hair; then
turned the handle and opened the door, with the majestic swing Laura
had that day once before observed.

V.

Fifty-five heads turned as if by clockwork, and fifty-five pairs of
eyes were levelled at the small girl in the white apron who meekly
followed Mrs. Gurley down the length of the dining-room. Laura
crimsoned under the unexpected ordeal, and tried to fix her attention
on the flouncing of Mrs. Gurley's dress. The room seemed hundreds of
feet long, and not a single person at the tea-tables but took stock of
her. The girls made no scruple of leaning backwards and forwards,
behind and before their neighbours, in order to see her better, and
even the governesses were not above having a look. All were standing.
On Mrs. Gurley assigning Laura a place at her own right hand, Laura
covered herself with confusion by taking her seat at once, before grace
had been said, and before the fifty-five had drawn in their chairs with
the noise of a cavalry brigade on charge. She stood up again
immediately, but it was too late; an audible titter whizzed round the
table: the new girl had sat down. For minutes after, Laura was lost in
the pattern on her plate; and not till tongues were loosened and dishes
being passed, did she venture to steal a glance round.

There were four tables, with a governess at the head and foot of each
to pour out tea. It was more of a hall than a room and had high,
church-like windows down one side. At both ends were scores of
pigeon-holes. There was a piano in it and a fireplace; it had [P.45]
pale blue walls, and only strips of carpet on the floor. At present it
was darkish, for the windows did not catch the sun.

Laura was roused by a voice at her side; turning, she found her
neighbour offering her a plate of bread.

"No, thank you," she said impulsively; for the bread was cut in chunks,
and did not look inviting.

But the girl nudged her on the sly. "You'd better take some," she
whispered.

Laura then saw that there was nothing else. But she saw, too, the
smiles and signs that again flew round: the new girl had said no.

Humbly she accepted the butter and the cup of tea which were passed to
her in turn, and as humbly ate the piece of rather stale bread. She
felt forlornly miserable under the fire of all these unkind eyes, which
took a delight in marking her slips: at the smallest furt