Christian went through the ordeal with the mistresses and the music-master with much Éclat. Miss Forest was evidently surprised at her knowledge of English history and literature, at her grammatical accuracy—for she set her a short essay to write—and at her knowledge generally. Mademoiselle was equally delighted with the purity of her French accent, and with the admirable way she translated a paragraph from a rather difficult French story-book. And, finally, Mr. Frederick said that she had real talent for music, and that he looked forward with much pleasure to conducting the studies of a pupil who would do him such credit.

Christian enjoyed herself during this time. She forgot her fears; she felt stimulated to do her very best. Finally, she returned to the schoolroom with a sort of halo round her brow. She was certain that she had done well.

Soon it was whispered all over the school that Christian Mitford was nothing short of a genius—that she was one of the cleverest girls who had ever come to the school. These reports were of course exaggerated; but still the solid fact remained that she was put into the fourth class for all English studies, and into the lower fifth for French and music. That a girl of thirteen was in such a position spoke for itself. Florry, whose other name was Burton, looked at her with great black eyes of envy. Star Lestrange flung the words to the ceiling just above Christian's head:

"She's a genius, and she knows it, the darling young thing."

The look on Florry's face and the expression of mischief in Star's bright dancing eyes brought Christian back to the fact that attainments alone and a strong wish for study did not necessarily secure happiness in a school like Penwerne Manor. She could not get over her nervous fears.

"I deserve it," she said to herself. "I should not be one scrap—no, not one scrap—afraid if I hadn't done wrong; but it is just the terror of their finding out that keeps my heart beating so hard. Oh, dear! oh, dear! There's no way out, for I can't run way again, and father and mother are nearly in India now. As to Miss Neil, she saw no sympathy with anyone; and poor dear nurse and Miss Thompson can't help me even if they wish to. Oh, dear! I am an unhappy girl."

Christian was standing by herself in one corner of the great playground as these thoughts visited her. Presently a hand was laid on her shoulder, and beautiful little Star stood by her side.

"Let's be friends, Christian," she said in a hearty voice.

"Will you?" answered Christian, her eyes brightening.

"I'd like to," said Star. "I took a fancy to you the moment I saw your face, even though you did look so alarmed and so startled."

"You'd have been startled too," said Christian stoutly, "if you had heard an awful voice on the ceiling above your head talking about you."

Star laughed; then she looked grave.

"I can't help it," she said. "I really can't break myself of it. Darling Miss Peacock is sometimes angry; but who could resist the fun who had the power? Oh! the fright on your face a couple of hours ago was killing. You looked as though anyone could knock you down."

"But you did it twice," said Christian.

"Yes, my young genius, I did. But never mind me; when I ventriloquize, just acknowledge my talent, but at the same time consider me your friend. You and I are in the same class, and we can't help knocking up against each other. By the way, where is your bedroom? In the White Corridor?"

Christian nodded.

"I thought as much. I am in the White Corridor too. We may as well be friends, for I'm sure I'd be a disagreeable enemy."

"I'd love to be your friend," said Christian. "Do you really mean it?"

"I always mean what I say. You ask Lucy Norris. Have you met Lucy—little, satin-faced Lucy, with hair that shines like a looking-glass, blue eyes, rosebud lips, and cheeks the color of the peach? Ah, there she is! I'll call her. Lucy, beloved. Lucy! I say, Lucy! Lucy!"

The girl whom Star had so cleverly described looked round her in a startled way; then her eyes met the bright ones of Star Lestrange, and she ran up to her.

"What is it, Star? What do you want?"

"Your Satinship," replied Star. "I want very specially to introduce you to my new friend, Christian Mitford. I want you and me and one or two others to form a sort of bodyguard round her. You see——"

Star's voice dropped. She bent towards Lucy and whispered something in her ear.

Lucy colored and nodded. "You don't really think so?" she said.

"I am certain of it," responded Star. "That is what will happen unless we take care. Oh, don't you be frightened, my love," she continued, patting Christian with a sort of affectionate condescension, on the arm. "Lucy and I and——"

"Angela Goring," suddenly burst from Lucy's lips.

"Good, Lucy—capital! Lucy, Angel Goring, and I—— We must have one more, Lucy. Jane Price."

"Oh, why Jane Price?" said Lucy.

"Because she's just admirable. She's so stolid, you know, and so matter-of-fact, and so intensely sensible. We don't want all the flyaway girls of the school."

"I'm not flyaway, I'm sure," said Lucy.

"Except when you follow the erratic movements of the Star," replied Star, her eyes twinkling.

"You do lead us, and you know it, Star," said Lucy. "But, there! Angela will do nicely."

"Find her, then, love," said Star.

Lucy rushed away.

"What do you mean by a bodyguard? And why should I require one?" said Christian.

"My dear love, it will be only for a week or a fortnight, just to get you into the ways. The fact is, this school, for all its admirable qualities, has in it one or two black sheep. Now, I mustn't breathe any names; dear, sweet Miss Peacock never guesses at their existence, and we none of us ever mean to tell. You are the veriest of all very victims for such girls; therefore I want to guard you. Ah! here comes Angela. Hasn't she a nice face?"

A very tall, very slight girl, with coal-black hair and large, luminous dark eyes, now appeared. She was dressed in a rough gray tweed, with a leather belt round her waist. Her hair hung in a thick plait far below her waist.

"Angela," said Star, "Lucy has told you what we want you for."

"And I am very pleased," said Angela.

She spoke in a low, somewhat deep voice. Her eyes were resting on Christian as though she were already protecting her.

"Now for Jane Price, and our guard is complete," said Star.

Lucy appeared, leading Jane by the hand. Jane was a short, dumpy, and very plain girl. She had an enormous forehead and thin hair. Her hair was cut to a line level with her neck. Her dress was short, sensible, ugly. Her hands were big and somewhat red. She had small, honest eyes and a large mouth.

"Jane," said Star in a sprightly tone, "you are just the very person we want. This is the victim; we will guard her, won't we?"

"Three cheers!" cried Lucy. "Of course we will."

"You must come to us if you are in any difficulty, Christian," said Angela.

"And just let me know and I'll punch 'em all round," was Jane's remark.

Christian's face was very pale.

"Thank you all," she said. "No doubt you mean it in kindness, but I feel more frightened than ever."

"Oh, dear! the poor, sweet thing!" said Star. "Has anybody got a lollypop?"

Immediately three hands were thrust into three pockets. Star's alone was unattacked. She shook her head sadly.

"I haven't got any," she said. "I ate all mine up last night after I got into bed. Four-and-twenty I consumed, and I was none the worse this morning."

"You know that was very naughty of you, Star," said Angela.

"My dear, I can't help my propensities; never could. Oh, dear! oh, dear! sometimes I scarcely like to look into the beautiful, kind eyes of our beloved Lavinia, so naughty do I feel. And yet I'm not really naughty. I'm not rabid, I mean; am I, girls?"

"You are a duck and a darling," said Lucy.

"Well, your Satinship, have you got any sweeties, any fondants, any caramels?" interrupted Star.

A few rather sticky ones were produced. Christian suddenly found her voice.

"Do you really care for sweets?" she asked.

"Do we really care for sweets?" cried Star. "Aren't we schoolgirls? What do you mean?"

"Only that I have got such a big box. Miss Thompson bought them for me; and another box full of little cakes."

A wild cheer immediately was given. Handkerchiefs were waved in the air; the girls clapped and laughed until they nearly cried.

"Isn't she worth guarding? Won't we guard her double quick?" said Star. "You angel, we will attack those dainties presently, but now let us pace up and down in this corner of the playground."

"I am to see Miss Peacock at five o'clock," said Christian.

"You lucky young beggar! But, of course, I forgot; first-day girls are always fussed over. You will be all right to-day, Christian; it's to-morrow that the tug-of-war will begin."

Christian was silent for a minute; then she said slowly:

"I thank you four girls very much indeed. I suppose it is safer for me to have you as my friends."

"Safer!" cried Angela. "Having us as your friends, you will never, never know what you have escaped."

"But would you mind telling me who the girls are? I mean the specially dreadful girls who are likely to be unkind. If I only knew I should not be so frightened."

"And that information we will never give you, dear genius," replied Star. "If you find out for yourself, alas for you! I only trust you will never find out. There's the tea-gong. Come in now; and you will sit at my table, as you belong to my class."

An hour later Christian found herself in Miss Peacock's presence. Miss Peacock was standing under a rose-colored lamp. She was reading a letter. Suddenly she raised her eyes and saw Christian. Christian was a striking-looking girl. She had a splendid carriage for her age; she held herself very erect, and kept her head well back on her shoulders. Her golden hair shone in the lamp-light. She came slowly forward, her eyes very wide open, her face pale, a look of entreaty round her mouth.

"Ah, Christian!" said Miss Peacock in a kind voice; "and how are you, dear? Are you taking your place in the school?"

"I don't know," replied Christian.

Miss Peacock took no notice of this vacillating remark. She motioned to Christian to seat herself in a shady corner, where she knew the young girl would be more comfortable than when exposed to the full glare of the light.

"I have got a very good report of you from your different mistresses and your music-master, dear," she said. "They all say you are remarkably well advanced for your age. That being the case, you will soon win a character for cleverness. A clever girl is always respected and thought a good deal of; and I trust you will be respected and looked up to, Christian, and that you will help to bring a good influence into this school—a religious and moral influence, the efficacy of which can never be overrated."

"Oh, please," said Christian, with a little gasp, "you know what I have done!"

Miss Peacock was quite silent for a minute.

"What you did," she then said very gravely, "happened before you came to me."

"I know; but it was because of you—because of coming to the school—that I did it."

Miss Peacock's eyes twinkled for a minute.

"Would you rather discuss the whole thing with me, Christian, or, on the other hand, would you rather let it lie—forget it, cover it up, go straight forward as though it had never been?"

"I think I'd rather discuss it with you. And," continued Christian, "I think I'd rather"—her voice faltered; it sank almost to a whisper—"I think I'd rather the other girls knew."

These words evidently startled Miss Peacock very much.

"You would rather your schoolfellows knew? But it has nothing to do with them."

"There would be nothing then to find out," continued Christian. "As it is, I shall live in fear. Oh! it was good of you—it was sweet of you—to keep it dark; but I think I would rather they knew."

Miss Peacock was amazed. She sat quite still for a minute; then she rose and walked to the other end of the room. She rang a bell, and in a few moments Jessie appeared. Jessie wore the same peculiar expression as she had worn the night before. The look of extreme juvenility, which vanished almost as soon as she began to speak, and her girlish dress, her girlish face, and her non-girlish voice, made her at once both striking and interesting.

"I understand from what Jessie has told me, that you have confided this matter to her, Christian," said Miss Peacock, turning to the young girl.

"I have. I had to; she was so very good to me, I could not let her live under the impression that I had been ill."

"I never gave anyone to understand that you were ill. I simply said that you were unavoidably detained. The girls are at liberty to form their own conclusions."

"There is an idea in the school that I was very ill," said Christian; "and," she added, "I don't like it, for you know"—she raised her clear eyes to Miss Peacock's face—"it is not true. You know it, don't you, Miss Peacock?"

Miss Peacock looked back at her with so intent a gaze that it seemed to the young girl that she was reading her through.

"Come here, Christian," she then said.

Christian rose. She now stood in the full light, and both Miss Peacock and Jessie could see the vivid pink in her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes. There was something about her which impressed them; the wonder on both their faces grew. At last Miss Peacock laid her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Christian," she said, "you are a remarkably brave girl. You are a great deal braver than you have any idea of yourself. It would not be right to take you at your word without explaining matters. My dear, to have this escapade of yours known in the school would mean——"

"It cannot be known," interrupted Miss Jessie. "Miss Peacock, dear, it must not be known."

"That certainly was my feeling, Jessie; but if the child herself——"

"No, no," repeated Miss Jessie. "Even you, Miss Lavinia, can't guess all that goes on in a school like this."

"I shut my eyes on purpose," said Miss Peacock. "A school is a little world. In that world there must necessarily be evil; without evil good would have nothing to overcome. The brave girls will overcome the evil and rise on the wings of good. I don't want any girl at Penwerne Manor to be subjected to too severe a discipline, however—a discipline which may be greater than the strength of the girl can meet. Now Christian, you have asked me an extraordinary thing. You wish the school to be told about your conduct before you came here. You don't know enough, my dear, to make it possible for me to grant your request—at least yet. But come to me again at the end of a month, and if you still make the same request, I shall have pleasure in giving my own version of the whole affair to the girls of Penwerne Manor. I think that is all, Jessie; you can attend to your usual duties. Christian, come and sit on this stool near me; I should like to talk to you about long ago."

Miss Peacock drew the girl down to a seat close by her side.

"After what you have said, I put you in my own mind on a different footing from the other girls," she remarked. "Now, I am going to tell you something. I felt a great sense of rejoicing and a great sense of personal pleasure when I received a letter from your good father to say that he wished to place you at Penwerne Manor during his absence."

Christian made no reply. She raised her eyes and fixed them on Miss Peacock. Miss Peacock noticed the frank, earnest look in the large eyes, and she put out her soft, well-formed white hand and smoothed back the hair from Christian's forehead.

"My dear child," she said, "my reason for being so pleased was that I owe, I think I may say, all that is good in my own life to your grandmother."

"To granny?" said Christian, in astonishment. Then she added, "I scarcely ever heard anything of granny until lately, but father spoke of her, and said that I—I wonder if it is true—that I resemble her."

"You are decidedly like her in appearance; only, of course, when I knew her she was an elderly woman. But you are more like her in mind. That was exactly the sort of thing she would have done. She would have been intensely naughty, and then intensely repentant. But there, dear! you are looking tired and flushed. Perhaps you had better go up to your own room early. Be sure you come to me in any difficulty, and regard me as your special friend. Good-night dear, and God bless you."