"I know you will," declared Sylvia. "So we'll just take no notice of them. You're my special baby, and I mean to keep you." "All right, you'll soon find out, and then don't say I didn't warn you!" returned Marian, laughing. In spite of both Sylvia's and Greta's protestations to the contrary, Marian's words proved to be exactly true. For almost a week the little girl's affection kept at red heat; on the seventh day it began to show signs of flagging. It was in vain that Sylvia tempted her with stories, cajoled her with sweets, or even presented her with one of her lovely new paintbrushes; Greta was tired of her fancy, and though she accepted anything that was offered her, she only gave a half-hearted peck of a kiss in return, and ran back promptly to play with Nessie Hirst. Poor Sylvia was terribly distressed. She had been fascinated with Greta's pretty pink-and-white face, and big blue eyes; she liked to curl the long, golden ringlets round her fingers, to fasten the clean pinafores, or do any other small services for her, and especially to feel that the child clung to her in preference to anybody else. To be thus suddenly deserted was a blow, and it was particularly galling to have Marian Woodhouse say "I told you so." All her efforts at winning back her fickle admirer were absolutely useless. Greta refused to be coaxed, and at the end of a fortnight fulfilled Marian's prophecy by pushing away her former friend and even smacking her, which brought matters to such a crisis that Sylvia, after a storm of tears in private, gave up the attempt and resigned herself to the inevitable. Luckily there were plenty of fresh interests to help to put Greta out of her thoughts. Though she had studied fairly hard with her governess at home she had never before entered into competition with other girls, and it was a new experience to work in class. As Miss Holt had expected, she was forward in some subjects and backward in others; but she was gifted with an excellent memory and found she could learn with little trouble what many of the others found impossible tasks. Except for French with Mademoiselle and nature study with Miss Kaye, all the lessons were taken by Miss Arkwright. Sylvia could never quite make up her mind whether she liked her or not. She was tall and slim, with large teeth, and a nose that moved about like a rabbit's when she spoke, and she wore her hair brushed very plainly back from her high forehead. She was a conscientious teacher but not a very interesting one, and she somehow lacked the charm which attracted the girls so much to their headmistress. "Miss Kaye seems to like to know each one of us separately, and all about our friends and our homes," said Marian one day, "and I don't believe Miss Arkwright cares in the least about us out of school, so long as we know our lessons in class."