hter ran round the room. The new girl, mortified and
offended, entered her protest in plain words.

"You are treating me shamefully! You all distrust me, because I am a
stranger."

"Say we don't understand you," Emily answered, speaking for her
schoolfellows; "and you will be nearer the truth."

"Who expected you to understand me, when I only came here to-day? I have
told you already my name is Francine de Sor. If want to know more, I'm
nineteen years old, and I come from the West Indies."

Emily still took the lead. "Why do you come _here?_" she asked. "Who
ever heard of a girl joining a new school just before the holidays? You
are nineteen years old, are you? I'm a year younger than you--and I have
finished my education. The next big girl in the room is a year younger
than me--and she has finished her education. What can you possibly have
left to learn at your age?"

"Everything!" cried the stranger from the West Indies, with an outburst
of tears. "I'm a poor ignorant creature. Your education ought to have
taught you to pity me instead of making fun of me. I hate you all. For
shame, for shame!"

Some of the girls laughed. One of them--the hungry girl who had counted
the strokes of the clock--took Francine's part.

"Never mind their laughing, Miss de Sor. You are quite right, you have
good reason to complain of us."

Miss de Sor dried her eyes. "Thank you--whoever you are," she answered
briskly.

"My name is Cecilia Wyvil," the other proceeded. "It was not, perhaps,
quite nice of you to say you hated us all. At the same time we have
forgotten our good breeding--and the least we can do is to beg your
pardon."

This expression of generous sentiment appeared to have an irritating
effect on the peremptory young person who took the lead in the room.
Perhaps she disapproved of free trade in generous sentiment.

"I can tell you one thing, Cecilia," she said; "you shan't beat ME in
generosity. Strike a light, one of you, and lay the blame on me if Miss
Ladd finds us out. I mean to shake hands with the new girl--and how can
I do it in the dark? Miss de Sor, my name's Brown, and I'm queen of the
bedroom. I--not Cecilia--offer our apologies if we have offended you.
Cecilia is my dearest friend, but I don't allow her to take the lead in
the room. Oh, what a lovely nightgown!"

The sudden flow of candle-light had revealed Francine, sitting up in her
bed, and displaying such treasures of real lace over her bosom that