she said she had not
been so happy for a long time."

"Well, she is your sister, and she's a good old sort. But, Agnes, how
are we to live in this school? Tell me, can you endure it?"

"I was at another school, and this one seems perfectly beautiful," said
little Agnes. "I think all the girls are quite nice."

"You had better not begin to praise them overmuch, or I shall be
jealous."

"What is being jealous?" said the little girl.

"Why, just furious because somebody cares for you, or even pretends to
care for you. I don't want anybody to love you but myself."

"I don't think I should quite like that," said little Agnes. "Though I
have promised to love you best, I should like others to be kind to me."

"There you are, with your sweet little eyes full of tears, and I have
caused them! But I'm dead-tired myself. Anyhow, it will only last for
twelve weeks--truly an eternity, but an eternity which has an end. Shall
we sleep in one bed to-night, Agnes? I won't be a moment undressing.
Will you come and cuddle close to me, and let me put my arms round you
and feel that you are my own little darling?"

"Yes, indeed, I should love it!" said little Agnes.

CHAPTER XXIV.

GUNPOWDER IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP.

Miss Archer was a most splendid director of a school. She was the sort
of woman who could read girls' characters at a glance; and as her object
was to spare Mrs. Merriman all trouble, and as she was now further
helped by Miss Frost, a most excellent teacher herself, and Mademoiselle
Omont took the French department, there was very little trouble in
arranging the lessons of the different girls.

Irene, on the morning after her arrival, awoke in a bad temper,
notwithstanding the fact that sweet little gentle Agnes was lying close
to her, with her pretty head of fair hair pressed against the elder
girl's shoulder. But when she went downstairs, and took her place in the
class, and found that, after all, she was not such an ignoramus as her
companions evidently expected to find her, her spirits rose, and for the
first time in her existence a sense of ambition awoke within her. It
would be something to conquer Lucy Merriman--the proud, the disdainful,
the unpleasant Lucy. After what Professor Merriman had said, Irene made
up her mind to say nothing more in public against Lucy; but her real
feelings of dislike toward her became worse and worse.

Now, Lucy's feelings towards Irene, which were those of contempt and