Mrs. Arlington, though a woman of more than sixty years of age, still possessed an erect and queen-like figure, a most dignified and stately appearance, and a face of remarkable beauty. She commanded respect at first sight, and there was no punishment greater for her pupils, than to be reported to Mrs. Arlington, and to be obliged to meet her face to face, to receive a reprimand. Her three daughters, Miss Susan, Miss Sophie, and Miss Emma, taught in different departments of the school, and were in every respect most admirably fitted for their different stations. Miss Emma taught music; Miss Sophie, French and drawing; while Mrs. Arlington and her eldest daughter attended solely to the more solid branches of education. It took some little time, of course, before our young friends felt at home in so strange a place, and among so many new faces. But many of the older scholars, who had been long in the school, were very kind in coming forward to make their acquaintance, and endeavor to do away the feeling of awkwardness, ever an attendant upon the introduction to scenes so untried and new. Grace and Effie were very shy and silent at first, but the peculiarly sweet and unaffected friendliness of Agnes’ manner, won every heart immediately. The younger scholars, especially, seemed to love her the moment she spoke to them, and to feel as if in her they should ever find a friend. Agnes and her cousins were placed in a large room in the third story; this room contained three beds, one of which was taken possession of by Grace and Effie, another was occupied by two little girls, of the names of Carrie and Ella Holt and Agnes was, for the present, alone. Mrs. Wilkins, the housekeeper, informed her, however, that Mrs. Arlington expected a new scholar soon, who was to be her bed-fellow. For some reason or other, the new scholar did not arrive at the time expected, and it was not till Agnes and her cousins had been some weeks at the school, and had began to feel quite at home there, that they were made aware, by the advent of an old hair trunk and a band-box, that the sixth occupant of their room had arrived. The new scholar’s name was Ruth Glenn. She was a strange-looking girl; very tall and thin, with a pale, greenish cast of complexion; coal-black eyes, very much sunken in her head; hair as black as her eyes, and colorless lips. When she smiled, which was very seldom, she displayed a fine set of teeth, her only redeeming feature. Her manners were as strange as her appearance. When she spoke, which was only when absolutely necessary, or in reciting her lesson, there was a constant nervous twitching about her bloodless lips; and she had a peculiar way of pulling at her long, thin fingers, as if it was her full intention to pull them off.