LITMIR.BIZ

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how hard I shall think! Welcome to Lavender House, Miss Thornton; look upon me as your devoted ally, and if you have a spark of pity in your breast, feel for the girl whom you got into a scrape the very moment you entered these sacred walls.”

      “I don’t understand you,” said Hester, who would not hold out her hand, and who was standing up in a very stiff, shy, and angular position. “I think you were very rude to startle me, and make personal remarks the very moment I came into the house.”

      “Oh, dear! – I only said you were tall, and looked rather sulky, love – you did, you know, really.”

      “It was very rude of you,” repeated Hester, turning crimson, and trying to keep back her tears.

      “Well, my dear, I meant no harm; shake hands, now, and let us make friends.”

      But Hester felt either too shy or too miserable to yield to this request – she half turned her back, and leaned against Miss Temple’s panel.

      “Never mind her,” whispered gentle Cecil Temple; but Annie Forest’s bright face had darkened ominously – the school favourite was not accustomed to having her advances flung back in her face. She left the room singing a defiant, naughty song, and several of the girls who had overheard this scene whispered one to the other —

      “She can’t be at all nice – she would not even shake hands with Annie. Fancy her turning against our Annie in that way!”

      Chapter Five

      The Head-Mistress

      Annie Forest had scarcely left the room before Miss Danesbury appeared with a message for Hester, who was to come with her directly to see Mrs Willis. The poor shy girl felt only too glad to leave behind her the cruel, staring, and now by no means approving eyes of her school-mates. She had overheard several of their whispers, and felt rather alarmed at her own act. But Hester, shy as she was, could be very tenacious of an idea. She had taken a dislike to Annie Forest, and she was quite determined to be true to what she considered her convictions – namely, that Annie was underbred and common, and not at all the kind of girl whom her mother would have cared for her to know. The little girl followed Miss Danesbury in silence. They crossed the stone hall together, and now passing through another baize door, found themselves once more in the handsome entrance-hall. They walked across this hall to a door carefully protected from all draughts by rich plush curtains, and Miss Danesbury, turning the handle, and going a step or two into the room, said in her gentle voice —

      “I have brought Hester Thornton to see you, Mrs Willis, according to your wish.”

      Miss Danesbury then withdrew, and Hester ventured to raise her eyes and to look timidly at the head-mistress.

      A tall woman, with a beautiful face and silvery white hair, came instantly to meet her, laid her two hands on the girl’s shoulders, and then, raising her shy little face, imprinted a kiss on her forehead.

      “Your mother was one of my earliest pupils, Hester,” she said, “and you are – no – ” after a pause, “you are not very like her. You are her child, however, my dear, and as such you have a warm welcome from me. Now, come and sit by the fire, and let us talk.”

      Hester did not feel nearly so constrained with this graceful and gracious lady as she had done with her school-mates. The atmosphere of the room recalled her beloved mother’s boudoir at home. The rich, dove-coloured satin dress, the cap made of Mechlin lace which softened and shaded Mrs Willis’s silvery hair, appeared homelike to the little girl, who had grown up accustomed to all the luxuries of wealth. Above all, the head-mistress’s mention of her mother drew her heart toward the beautiful face, and attracted her toward the rich, full tones of a voice which could be powerful and commanding at will. Mrs Willis, notwithstanding her white hair, had a youthful face, and Hester made the comment which came first to her lips —

      “I did not think you were old enough to have taught my mother.”

      “I am sixty, dear, and I have kept this school for thirty years. Your mother was not the only pupil who sent her children to be taught by me when the time came. Now, you can sit on this stool by the fire and tell me about your home. Your mother – ah, poor child, you would rather not talk about her just yet. Helen’s daughter must have strong feelings – ah, yes; I see, I see. Another time, darling, when you know me better. Now tell me about your little sister, and your father. You do not know, perhaps, that I am Nan’s godmother?”

      After this the head-mistress and the new pupil had a long conversation. Hester forgot her shyness; her whole heart had gone out instantly to this beautiful woman who had known, and loved, and taught her mother.

      “I will try to be good at school,” she said at last; “but, oh, please, Mrs Willis, it does not seem to me to-night as if school-life could be happy.”

      “It has its trials, Hester; but the brave and the noble girls often find this time of discipline one of the best in their lives – good at the time, very good to look back on by-and-by. You will find a miniature world around you; you will be surrounded by temptations; and you will have rare chances of proving whether your character can be strong and great and true. I think, as a rule, my girls are happy, and as a rule they turn out well. The great motto of life here, Hester, is earnestness. We are earnest in our work, we are earnest in our play. A half-hearted girl has no chance at Lavender House. In play-time, laugh with the merriest, my child: in school-hours, study with the most studious. Do you understand me?”

      “I try to, a little,” said Hester, “but it seems all very strange just now.”

      “No doubt it does, and at first you will have to encounter many perplexities and to fight many battles. Never mind, if you have the right spirit within you, you will come out on the winning side. Now, tell me, have you made any acquaintances as yet among the girls?”

      “Yes – Cecil Temple has been kind to me.”

      “Cecil is one of my dearest pupils; cultivate her friendship, Hester – she is honourable, she is sympathising. I am not afraid to say that Cecil has a great heart.”

      “There is another girl,” continued Hester, “who has spoken to me. I need not make her my friend, need I?”

      “Who is she, dear?”

      “Miss Forest – I don’t like her.”

      “What! our school favourite. You will change your mind, I expect – but that is the gong for prayers. You shall come with me to chapel, to-night, and I will introduce you to Mr Everard.”

      Chapter Six

      “I Am Unhappy.”

      Between forty and fifty young girls assembled night and morning for prayers in the pretty chapel which adjoined Lavender House. This chapel had been reconstructed from the ruins of an ancient priory, on the site of which the house was built. The walls, and even the beautiful eastern window, belonged to a far-off date. The roof had been carefully reared in accordance with the style of the east window, and the whole effect was beautiful and impressive. Mrs Willis was particularly fond of her own chapel. Here she hoped the girls’ best lessons might be learned, and here she had even once or twice brought a refractory pupil, and tried what a gentle word or two spoken in these old and sacred walls might effect. Here, on wet Sundays the girls assembled for service; and here, every evening at nine o’clock, came the vicar of the large parish to which Lavender House belonged, to conduct evening prayers. He was an old man, and a great friend of Mrs Willis’s, and he often told her that he considered these young girls some of the most important members of his flock.

      Here Hester knelt to-night. It is to be doubted whether in her confusion, and in the strange loneliness which even Mrs Willis had scarcely removed, she prayed much. It is certain she did not join in the evening hymn, which, with the aid of an organ and some sweet girl-voices, was beautifully and almost pathetically rendered. After evening prayers had come to an end, Mrs Willis took Hester’s hand and led her up to the old, white-headed vicar.

      “This is my new pupil, Mr Everard, or rather I should say, our new pupil. Her education depends as much on you as on me.”

      The vicar held out his hands,

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