t of them had phases of piety;
whilst there were very few who did not leave the school with yearnings
at least towards honour and uprightness, which were formed by time and
experience into steady principles.

Beth persisted in roaming the garden alone. She loved to hover about a
large fountain there, with a deep wide basin round it, in which
gold-fish swam and water-lilies grew. She used to go and hang over it,
peering into the water, or, when the fountain played, she would loiter
near, delighting in the sound of it, the splash and murmur.

One of the windows of Miss Clifford's sitting-room overlooked this
part of the garden, and Beth noticed the old lady once or twice
standing in the window, but it did not occur to her that she was
watching her. One day, however, Miss Clifford sent a maid-of-honour to
fetch her; and Beth went in, wondering what she had done, but asked no
questions; calm indifference was still her pose.

Miss Clifford dismissed the maid-of-honour. She was sitting in her own
special easy-chair, and Beth stood before her.

"My dear child," she said to Beth, "why are you always alone? Are the
girls not kind to you?"

"Oh yes, thank you," Beth answered, "they are quite kind."

"Then why are you always alone?"

"I like it best."

"Are you sure," said Miss Clifford, "that the others do not shun you
for some reason or other?"

"One of them wished to be my mother," Beth rejoined, "but I did not
care about it."

"But you cannot be happy always alone like that," Miss Clifford
observed.

Beth was silent.

Miss Clifford looked at her earnestly for a little, then she shook her
head.

"I tell you what I will do if you like, Miss Clifford," Beth said upon
reflection. "I will form a family of my own."

Miss Clifford smiled. "Ah! I see you are ambitious," she said, "but,
my dear child, a sixth girl can't expect to have that kind of
influence."

"It is not ambition," Beth answered, "for I shall feel it no
distinction, only a great bother. Nevertheless, I will do it to show
you that I am not shunned; and to please you, as you do not like me to
wander alone."

A week or two later Beth appeared in the garden with six of the worst
girls in the school clinging to her, fascinated by her marvellous
talk.

Miss Clifford sent for her again. "I am sorry to see you in such
company," she said. "Those girls are all older than you are, and they
will lead you into mischief."

"On the contrary, Miss Clifford,"