exactly, but I felt depressed all of a sudden. I wanted her to be so pleased at my return that she didn’t notice anything but just me, and it hurt to be called to order so soon. I looked across the room, and caught a glimpse of our two figures reflected in a glass—such a big, fair, tousled creature as I looked beside her, and my heart went down lower then ever. I shall disappoint her, I know I shall! She expects me to be an elegant, accomplished young lady like Vere, and I feel a hoyden still, and not a bit a grown-up woman; besides, father said I was to keep young. How am I to please them both, and have time left over to remember Miss Martin’s lessons? It strikes me, Una Sackville, you have got your work cut out.

Mother brought me up to see my room. She has looked after it all herself, and taken no end of trouble making the shades. It looked sweet in the sunshine, and I shall love sitting in the little round window writing my adventures in this book; but now that it’s dark I miss the girls: I wonder what Lorna and Florence are doing now? Talking of me, I expect, and crying into their pillows. It seems years since we parted, and already I feel such miles apart. It seems almost impossible to believe that last night I was eating thick bread-and-butter for supper and lying down in the middle bed in the bare old dormitory. Now already I feel quite grown up and responsible. Oh, if I live to be a hundred years old, I shall never, never be at school again! I’ve been so happy. I wonder, I wonder shall I ever be as happy again?

Chapter Three.

June 20th.

I’ve been home a month. I’ve got tails to my dresses and silk linings, and my hair done up like the people in advertisements, and parasols with frills, and a pearl necklace to wear at nights with real evening dresses. I wear white veils, too, and such sweet hats—I don’t mind saying it here where no one will see, but I really do look most awfully nice. I should just simply love to be lolling back in the victoria, all frills and feathers, and the crocodiles to march by. Wouldn’t they stare! It was always so interesting to see how the girls looked grown up.

The weather has been lovely, and I do think ours is the very dearest old house in the world. It is described in the guide-books as “a fine old Jacobean mansion,” and all sorts of foreign royal creatures have stayed here as a place of refuge in olden days before father’s people bought it. It is red brick covered with ivy, and at the right side the walls go out in a great semicircle, with windows all round giving the most lovely 

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