Ruth entered the schoolroom last, to cross over to where stood on its thin, decrepit legs the harp of other days, in the shape of a most unmusical little piano, which, when opened, looked like some fossil old-world monster of the toad nature, squeezed square and squatting there in a high-shouldered fashion, gaping wide-mouthed, and showing a row of hideous old yellow teeth, the teeth upon which for many a weary hour the girls had practised the "Battle of Prague," "Herz Quadrilles," and the overture to "Masaniello," classical strains that were rather out of tune, and in unwonted guise, consequent upon so many notes being dumb, while what seemed like a row of little imps with round, flat hats performed a kind of excited automatic dance _a la Blondin_ upon the wire in the entrails of the fossil toad. As Ruth crossed and stood leaning with one hand upon the old piano, with her eyelids drooping, and the great tears gathering slowly beneath the heavily-fringed lids, a deep sigh struggled for exit. It was not much to have missed that cold display of something like affection just shown by the ladies to her cousins; but she felt the neglect most sorely, for her tender young heart was hungry for love, and all these many sad years that she had passed in the cheerless schoolroom, whose one window looked out upon the dismal fountain in the gloomy court, she had known so little of what real affection meant. If she could only have received one word of sympathy just then she would have been relieved, but she was roused from her sad reverie by a sharp pat upon the cheek from Clotilde. "Tears? Why, you're jealous! Here, Rie, the stupid thing is crying because she was not kissed." "Goose!" exclaimed Marie. "She missed a deal! Ugh! It's very horrid." "Yes," cried Clotilde. "Bella's teeth-spring squeaked, and I thought Pip meant to bite. Here, Ruthy, come and kiss the places and take off the nasty taste." She held out one of her cheeks, and Ruth, whose face still tingled with the smack she had received, came forward smiling, threw her arms round her cousin, and kissed her cheeks again and again. "Ah, I feel sweeter now!" said Clotilde, pushing Ruth away. "Make her do you, Rie." Marie laughed unpleasantly as, without being asked, Ruth, smiling, crossed to her chair and kissed her affectionately again and again, her bright young face lighting up with almost childish pleasure, for she was of that nature of womankind whose greatest satisfaction is to give rather than receive. "There, that will do, baby," cried Marie, laughing. "What a gushing girl you are, Ruth!" but she kissed her in return all the same, with the effect that a couple of tears stole from the girl's eyes. "Mind you don't spoil my lovely dress. Now then, Clo, what does all this mean?"