Miss Chapman at the piano. The
door opened to admit first Mrs. Gurley, then the Principal and his
wife--a tall, fair gentleman in a long coat, and a sweet-faced lady,
who wore a rose in her velvet dress.

"Let us sing in the hundred and fifty-seventh hymn," said the
gentleman, who had a Grecian profile and a drooping, sandy moustache;
and when Miss Chapman had played through the tune, the fifty-five, the
governesses, the lady and gentleman rose to their feet and sang, with
halting emphasis, of the Redeemer and His mercy, to Miss Chapman's
accompaniment, which was as indecisive as her manner, the left hand
dragging lamely along after the right.

"Let us read in the third chapter of the Second Epistle of Paul to the
Thessalonians."

Everyone laid her hymn-book on the table and sat down to listen to
Paul's words, which the sandy gentleman read to a continual nervous
movement of the left leg.

"Let us pray."

Obeying the word, the fifty-five rose, faced about, and knelt to their
chairs. It was an extempore prayer, and a long one, and Laura did not
hear much of it; for the two big girls on her right kept up throughout
a running conversation. Also, when it was about half over she was
startled to hear Miss Zielinski say, in a shrill whisper: "Heavens!
There's that mouse again," and audibly draw her skirts round her. Even
Miss Chapman, praying to her piano-chair some distance off, had heard,
and turned her head to frown rebuke.

The prayer at an end, Mr. and Mrs. Strachey bowed vaguely in several
directions, shook hands with the governesses, and left the room. This
was the signal for two of the teachers to advance with open Bibles.

"Here, little one, have you learned your verse?" whispered Laura's
pleasant neighbour.

Laura knew nothing of it; but the big girl lent her a Bible, and, since
it was not a hard verse and every girl repeated it, it was quickly
learned.

I WISDOM DWELL WITH PRUDENCE AND FIND OUT KNOWLEDGE OF WITTY INVENTIONS.

Told off in batches, they filed up the stairs. On the first landing
stood Miss Day, watching with lynx-eyes to see that no books or
eatables were smuggled to the bedrooms. In a strident voice she
exhorted the noisy to silence, and the loiterers to haste.

Laura sped to her room. She was fortunate enough to find it still
empty. Tossing off her clothes, she gabbled ardently through her own
prayers, drew the blankets up over her head, and pretended to be
asleep. Soon the lights were