“That is right, my child. I am glad you feel better. And now remember, in future, that you need never alarm either yourself or any one else. If you feel a little faintness coming on, just retire to your own room, without saying anything about it. Shut your door, open all the windows, and lie down quietly. You will soon find yourself well again.” There was no recurrence of the attack. With weakness of will Miss Buss could by nature have little sympathy. But she was stern only when she knew that a will might be roused to greater effort, which, if let alone, could only grow more and more feeble. With merely morbid and self-centred natures she had still less affinity, and for these the prescription, “Do your next duty first!” would be very strongly enforced. Coldness or extreme reserve of manner was always a trial to Miss Buss, as to all persons of a naturally demonstrative temperament. It was true that she herself sometimes exercised a repressive influence, but this was only when she was very much run down or worried. Usually, she drew people out by her frank kindness. One of her very favourite stories for her girls was Mrs. Gatty’s charming kitten story, “Purr when you are pleased!” She liked every one to show feelings of pleasure or kindness, and in this she set them a bright example. Miss Fawcett recalls, among many things bearing on the same point, a remark made to her by Miss Buss, as they passed two new girls—both of whom are since known to fame—“It is always a refreshment of spirit to me to look at those two happy sisters!” Natures of this kind were a real help in her times of depression or discouragement, though, doubtless, none of the girls ever dreamt that one so strong could need help. Other teachers will understand from experience this joy of whole-hearted and sympathetic obedience from their pupils. And it is easy to measure what this must have been to Miss Buss in those later days, when she was no longer the energetic young teacher, sweeping every one along with her in a rapture of devotion, but, instead, had to carry, in addition to her own inevitable burdens, all the cares of her wide public work. It may be a direct result of public-school life, assimilating the modern girl to her schoolboy brother, but certainly it is to be observed that the High-school girl rarely seems to have that power of expressing her feelings which made her mother or grandmother so much easier in all social relations. It is more than probable that, in thus growing like the typical “schoolboy,” she may in reality feel more, and not less, from this very habit of repression. But the fact remains that she is more difficult of approach than the girl of other days. With special cases quite individual in their nature, Miss Buss was rarely known to fail. As one of her staff observes—