"I suppose you think there is a wrong and a right motive? I suppose you think mine is the wrong one. What is the right, then? I'm ill, and reduced in my mind, so it's a good time to preach; I'll listen meekly!" "And disagree with every word I say," cried Miss Everett laughing. "No, no, Rhoda, I never preach. I know girls well enough to understand that that doesn't pay. There are some secrets that we have to find out for ourselves, and it is waste of time telling the answers before the hearer is ready to receive them; only, when one has oneself suffered from ignorance, and sees another poor dear running her head against the wall, one is sorry, that's all, and one longs to point out the danger signals. Find out, dear, what your motive is, and be satisfied that it's a good one. Meantime, I'm going to take away these papers. Do you see? Every--single--one!" She walked round the room, confiscating the lists, and putting them in her pocket with an air of good-natured determination. "Let that tired head rest, and believe me, my dear, that your elders understand almost as much about girls as you do yourself. We are never blamed for under-working at Hurst, and you may take for granted that the hours for work are as long as you can stand. The short time spent in your cubicle is not intended for work, but for rest--of all kinds!" Rhoda blushed guiltily. During the first days at school the morning hymn had been both a delight and stimulus. She had listened to the words with a beating heart, and whispered them to herself in devout echo; they had seemed to strike a keynote for the day, and send her to work full of courage; but, alas! for weeks past the strains had fallen on deaf ears, and the lips had been too busy conning Latin substantives to have leisure for other repetition. Her sense of guilt made her meek under the confiscation of her lists, and pathetically grateful for the kiss of farewell. "Thank you for coming. I know you are busy, but I wanted you so! It's nice to see you; you look so sweet and pretty!" "Oh, you flatterer! I'm surprised at you. As if it matters what a staid old teacher looked like; I'm above such silly vanities, my dear." She looked, however, extremely pleased, quite brisked up in fact, and so delightfully like a girl that Rhoda took heart of grace, and enquired:-- "I wish you would tell me _your_ object! That wouldn't be preaching, and you are so young to be working so hard! I have often wondered--"