nd
down the garden-paths in small parties, or about the dreary roads two
and two in long lines, was their only exercise, and even in this they
were restricted to such a severe propriety of demeanour that it almost
seemed as if the object were to teach them to move without betraying
the fact that they had legs. The consequence of all this restraint was
a low state of vitality among the girls, and the outbreak of morbid
phases that sometimes went right through the school. Beth, as might
have been expected, was one of the first to be caught by anything of
this kind; and she arrived, by way of her own emotions, at the cause
of a great deal that was a mystery to older people, and also thought
out the cure eventually; but she suffered a great deal in the process
of acquiring her special knowledge of the subject. She was especially
troubled by her old malady--depression of spirits. Sometimes, on a
summer evening, when all the classes were at preparation, and the
whole great house was still, a mistress would begin to practise in one
of the music-rooms, and Beth would be carried away by the music, so
that work was impossible. One evening, when this happened, she sat,
with a very sad face, looking out on the river. Pleasure-boats were
gliding up and down; a gay party went by, dancing on the deck of a
luxurious barge to the music of a string-band; a young man skimmed the
surface in a skiff, another punted two girls along; and people walked
on the banks or sat about under the trees, and children played--and
they were all free! Suddenly Beth burst into tears. Miss Smallwood
questioned her. Was she ill? had she any pain? had any one been unkind
to her? No? What was the matter then? Nothing; she was just miserable!

"Beth, don't be so silly," Miss Smallwood remonstrated. "A great girl
like you, crying for nothing! It is positively childish."

The other girls stole glances at her and looked grave. At the
beginning of the term they would not have sympathised perhaps; but
this was the middle, and many of them were in much the same mood
themselves.

When the bell rang, and the recreation hour began, they got out their
little bits of fancy-work, and such dull childish books as they were
allowed, and broke up into groups. Beth was soon surrounded by the
cleverer girls in the class.

"I sympathise with you, Beth," said Janey North, a red-haired Irish
girl, "for I felt like it myself, I did indeed."

"Will the holidays never be here?" s