Queenie knew the royal road to learning lay through her pupils' hearts. She must love them, and teach them to love her; obedience would follow as a matter of course. All children were dear to her, for Emmie's sake. Now and then, through the buzz of voices droning through the repetition lessons, there would come before her a certain vivid memory, stabbing her with sudden, sharp pain--a dark garret haunted with shadows; a pale-faced child crouched on the window-seat, wrapped in an old red shawl, with great blue eyes dim with fear; of a little figure stricken down, and lying amongst them as one that was dead; of a sick-room where a child-martyr went down into the very valley of the shadow of death, where a fight so long and terrible was carried on that the weary watcher only covered her face with her trembling hands, and prayed for merciful death to come as a deliverer. And so for the sake of that childish sufferer, and that great miracle of healing--Queenie clave with very love to all children. There was one child, Prissy Atkinson, the sister of the very Patience whom Langley had selected as her little maid, to whom she showed especial kindness. She was the plainest and most uninteresting girl in the school, slightly lame, and with an odd drawl and lisp in her voice, ungainly in manner, and with no particular cleverness to recommend her; yet, by some undefinable feeling, Queenie singled out this child as an object of her interest. The little rough head often felt a tender hand laid upon it. The gentlest voice Prissy had ever heard would accost her now and then; difficult tasks were smoothed by magic; pleasant smiles would reward her diligence. When her head once ached, a resting-place was found for it on teacher's own shoulder. "Oh, teacher! I love you! I do love you so!" cried Prissy, out of the fulness of her heart, throwing her thin arms round Queenie's neck. Was the warm kiss that answered her given in reality to Prissy or to Emmie? Emmie would come sometimes and look in at the open door, with round blue eyes, very wide open with pleasure and astonishment. The little girls would look up from their tasks and nod at her; the sisters would interchange fond, satisfied looks. Sometimes a tall figure would pause for a moment behind Emmie; then a strong arm would draw the child from the threshold. "Naughty Emmie! infringing the rules in school-hours. Do you know I shall have you put on a form as an example for disobedient children? Why has Langley allowed you to play truant in this way?" "I ran away from Cathy, down the lane," Emmie answered, clinging to his hand, and looking up coaxingly into his face. "I do love to see Queenie amongst them all. Did she not look nice, Mr. Clayton?"