As a rule, a word or even a look was sufficient to maintain order. She rarely if ever inflicted a punishment for a breach of discipline; to do so, she considered, would be an acknowledgment of her lack of authority, and indeed the girls dreaded one of her scathing reproofs far more than an imposition or the loss of a mark. Her bright, vivacious, interesting style, her fund of appropriate stories for every occasion, and her many amusing remarks and comments, made her extremely popular with her class in spite of her strictness, and the moment she took her place on the platform all eyes were fixed on her clever, intellectual face. The subject of her lecture this morning was the reign of James I, and to Patty, accustomed to Miss Dawson's mild explanations, it was a revelation in the way of teaching. As she had not prepared the chapter, she could, of course, not answer any of the questions asked; but in spite of that she felt she had never grasped any lesson so thoroughly before: every little detail seemed impressed upon her memory, and she was quite sorry when the class came to an end, and Mademoiselle arrived to take French translation. Eleven o'clock was the signal for ten minutes' interval for lunch, and most of the girls began at once to leave the room. Patty was on the point of following, when a hand was laid on her arm, and turning round she saw Enid, the pretty dark-eyed girl who had eaten so many sweets in the train. "I've been looking out for you ever since we got to school," said the latter. "What became of you yesterday? I didn't see even the end of your hair ribbon." "I was having exams. nearly all day," answered Patty, "but I was in the recreation room in the evening. Didn't you see me?" "No, of course I didn't, or I'd have come and spoken to you." "I wish you had, then, for nobody spoke to me at all, and no one's said a word to me at meals, or in my bedroom either." In spite of herself, Patty could not help her voice sounding rather aggrieved. "What a shame! Then you don't know anybody at The Priory yet?" "Only my cousin Muriel." "Muriel Pearson? Is she your cousin?" "Yes." "Well!" exclaimed Enid, throwing such a depth of expression into the brief monosyllable, that it seemed to convey a whole volume of indignant comment. "Do you actually mean to say," put in Avis, who had joined them, "that Muriel Pearson's your cousin, and yet she's never taken any notice of you, nor introduced you to anybody?" Patty nodded. She did not want to accuse Muriel, but she certainly could not deny the fact. "Then she's the meanest, nastiest girl in the whole school, and I shall just tell her so," said Enid, flushing quite scarlet with righteous wrath. "I never thought much of her, but I didn't believe she'd have done such a horrid thing as this. She deserves to be sent to Coventry for it." "Didn't Miss Lincoln ask anybody to be friends with you?" enquired Avis. "No; I only saw Miss Lincoln for a few minutes in the library when I came."