led but accepted the apology. Her
livelihood depended upon her own work, and she also loved the place and
had many friends in that part of the world. But the idea of Miss
Woodhull's "arduous work" was certainly amusing. Miss Woodhull never did
a thing (but criticise) from one day's end to the next. She had long
since given up all classes, and now merely presided as the autocrat of
the establishment, unloved by any, feared by many, disliked by all. If
Miss Stetson and Miss Baylis really did like her they also shared the
fear she inspired.

More than one upheaval had occurred in the course of the school's
existence, but had always been quickly hushed up, though vague rumors had
circulated throughout the community. During later years, however, more
than one girl had "been dismissed," so Miss Woodhull stated, "for
unbecoming conduct." The girls themselves told different stories. For the
past three years Dr. and Mrs. Kilton had been quietly trying to purchase
Leslie Manor through agents in Richmond, for a good bit of inside
information had come to them regarding the manner in which matters were
shaping there, and their pride in the community, and in Warren County,
shrank from some possible crisis which would bring upon it an unpleasant
notoriety.

In one sense the girls in Leslie Manor were well cared for. Their
physical and personal welfare were safe in Mrs. Bonnell's hands and the
instruction was thorough and excellent. But in the wise development of
character, in the trustful, happy confidence which girlhood should know,
in the harmony which is girlhood's right, or the harmless frolicing, and
healthful bodily development from spontaneous activities, they were sadly
lacking. Everything was cut and dried. All things ordered from Miss
Woodhull's austere standpoint. No wonder that the school harbored
"Pettys" and "Eleanors" and "Electras" and a few other oddities. Until
this year it had never sheltered a "Beverly," and this same Beverly was
likely to prove, though with no such intention upon her part, its
Waterloo.

And thus stood affairs that Sunday evening after Beverly's flight, and
then from a source least expected Bomb Number 1 was hurled.

All day long Electra Sanderson had been strangely silent. At eight
o'clock she marched down to Miss Woodhull's study, rapped upon the door,
and was bidden enter. That lady sat with her hand upon the telephone
receiver, about to remove it. She now fully realized that Admiral Seldon