"I fell asleep, and my dreams were troublesome. I can't get up yet. No, I won't have any breakfast. I wish I hadn't come; I don't like this place." I knelt down by the bed and took her hand. "You know that your mother and your uncle wouldn't have made such an effort to send you here if they didn't think it would be for your good," I said. "Do try and like it." There was a new tone in my voice. I really felt sorry for her. She raised her head and fixed her dark eyes on my face. "Do you think your father would like it?" "I am sure he would, Augusta," I said; and an idea flashed through my brain. I would write that very day to my step-mother and beg her to get my father to send Augusta a message. The slightest word from him would control her life; she would work hard at her French, her German, hard at manners, refinement--at everything--if only he would give her the clue. Surely my step-mother would manage it. I flashed a bright glance at her now. "I know that my father would like it. I'll tell the Baroness you are not well and cannot come down this morning." "The Baroness? What did you say?" said Augusta. "Our head-mistress; her name is Baroness von Gablestein." Augusta closed her eyes and shivered. "To this we have sunk," I heard her mutter, and then she turned her face to the wall. A great bell, musical and dear, sounded all over the house. "That is our summons," I said. "Mademoiselle Wrex will meet us on the next landing, and I will come to you as soon as I can." I left the room. "What's the matter?" said Hermione. "She says she has a headache, but I think she is mostly sulking," I replied. "I am going to write to my step-mother; I think I know how to manage her." "Dumps, how bright you look--and how happy!" Yes, I was happy; I was feeling in my heart of hearts that I really meant to do my very best.