"Miss Foster, will you have the kindness to go up to Miss Bransome and Miss Dunstable, and tell them we are waiting for them?" The young lady went. Profound silence. Then appeared, after some delay, the missing members of the family; they came in and took their seats in silence. "Good morning, young ladies!" said Mrs. Mowbray. "Have you slept well?" "Quite well, madame,"--one of them answered, making an expressive facial sign to her neighbours on the other side, which Rotha saw and greatly resented. "So well that you did not hear the bell?" Mrs. Mowbray went on. Silence. "Answer, if you please. Did you hear the bell?" "I did, madame," came in faint tones from one of the young ladies; and a still more smothered affirmative from the other. "Then why were you late?" Again silence. Profound attention in all parts of the rooms; nobody stirring. "It has happened once or twice before. Now, young ladies, please take notice," said Mrs. Mowbray, raising her voice somewhat. "If any young lady is not in her place here at seven o'clock, I shall go up for her myself; and if I go up for her, she will have to come down with me, just as she is. I will bring you down in your nightgown, if you are not out of it before I come for you; you shall come down in your night dress, here, to the parlour. So now you know what you have to expect; and remember, I always keep my promises." The silence was awful, Rotha thought. It was unbroken, even by a movement, until Mrs. Mowbray turned round to her book and took up the interrupted reading. Very decorously the reading went on and ended; in subdued good order the girls came to the table and eat their breakfast; but there were smouldering fires under this calm exterior; and it was to be expected that when the chance came the fire would break forth. The chance came that same evening before tea. The girls were gathered, preparatory to that ceremony, in the warm, well lighted rooms; and as the custom was, each one had her favourite bit of ornamental work in hand. It was a small leisure time. No teacher, as it happened, was in the front parlour where Rotha sat, deep in a book; and a conversation began near her, in under tones to be sure, which she could not but hear. Several new scholars had come into the family at the New Year. One of these, a Miss Farren, made the remark that Mrs. Mowbray had "showed out" that morning. "Didn't she!" said another girl. "O that's what she is! You'll see. That's _just_ what she is." "She is an old cat!" This last speaker was Miss Dunstable, and the spitefulness of the words brought Rotha's head up from her book, with ears pointed and sharpened. "I thought she looked so sweet," the new comer, Miss Farren, remarked further. "I was quite taken with her at first. I thought she looked so pleasant."