yes.

"Yes, punish you."

"Well, no. I don't think anybody would try to do it a second time."

"I don't wish to punish you, my dear child." The Professor rose and took
one of Irene's little hands. "I want to help you, dear--to help you with
all my might and main. I know you are different from other girls."

"Yes," said Irene, speaking in her old wild strain; "I am a changeling.
That's what I am."

"Nevertheless, dear--we won't discuss that--you have a soul within you
which can be touched, influenced. All I ask of you is to obey certain
rules. One of them is that you do not say unkind things about your
fellow-pupils. Now, you spoke very unkindly to my daughter at supper
to-night."

"I don't like her," said Irene bluntly.

"But that doesn't alter the fact that she is my daughter and one of your
school-fellows."

"Well, I can't like her if I can't. You don't want me to be dishonest
and tell lies, do you?"

"No, but I want you to be courteous; and ill-feelings are always wrong,
and can be mastered if we apply ourselves in the right spirit. I must,
therefore, tell you, Irene, that the next time I hear you speak, or it
is reported to me that you speak, unkindly of any of your
school-fellows, and if you perform any naughty, cowardly, childish
tricks, you will have to come to me, and--I don't quite know what I
shall be obliged to do, but I shall have a talk with you, my dear. Now,
that is enough for the present."

"Thank you," said Irene, turning very red, and immediately leaving the
room.

The Professor sighed when she had gone.

"How are we ever to manage her?" he said to himself.

In truth, he had not the least idea. Irene was not the sort of girl who
could be easily softened, even by a nature as gentle and kind and
patient as his. She required firm measures. Nevertheless, he had made a
deeper impression than he had any idea of; and when the little girl went
up to her room presently, and saw that Agnes was in bed, but wide awake
and waiting ready to fling her arms tightly round her companion's neck,
some of the sore feeling left her heart.

"Oh, Aggie, I have you! and you will never, never love that other horrid
Agnes, or that dreadful Phyllis, or that hateful Lucy, or any of the
girls in the school as you love me."

"Oh, indeed, I never could, Irene--I never could!" said little Agnes.
"But you don't mind Em putting me to bed, do you, for it makes her so
happy? Her hands were quite trembling with joy, and