"Ah!" cried Miss Everett, and a curious look passed over her face--half glad, half sad, wholly proud. "I'll tell you my object, Rhoda--it's my brother, Lionel! I have an only brother, and he is a genius. You remember his name, and when you are an old lady in a cap and mittens you can amuse other old ladies by telling how you once knew his sister, and she prophesied his greatness. At school he carried all before him, and he is as good as he is clever, and as merry as he is good. He won a scholarship at Oxford, but that was not enough. My father is the vicar of Stourley, in D--shire, and has such a small stipend that he could not afford to help him as much as was needed. Then I wrote to Miss Bruce, and asked her if she could give me an opening. She is an old family friend, and knew that I had done well in examinations and was good at games (the younger teachers here must be able to play with the girls-- it's one of the rules), so she gave me my present position, and I am able to help the boy. He went up last year and did famously, but I have had sad news this week. He had been obliged to go home and convalesce after an attack of influenza, and is so weak still that the doctor says he will want any amount of rest and feeding up before he can go back. So you see I am more thankful than ever to be able to help!" "I don't see it at all," said Rhoda bluntly. "I should be mad. What's the good of your slaving here if, after all, he can't get on with his work? You might as well be comfortably at home." "Rhoda! Rhoda! be quiet this moment. It's bad enough to fight against my own rebellious feelings without hearing them put into words. I won't stay another moment to listen to you!" She gave a playful shake to the girl's shoulder, and ran out of the room, while Rhoda "snoddled" down to think over the conversation. "Well, then, I suppose her motive is love--love for her brother, and-- er--thinking of him before herself. She comes here and slaves so that he may have his chance. She is an angel, of course, an unselfish angel, and I'm a wretch." She lay still for a few moments, frowning fiercely, then suddenly the bedclothes went up with a wrench--"I don't care--she's ambitious too! She thinks he is clever, and wants him to be great! Well, so do I want to be great! If it isn't wrong for one person, it can't be for another. My motive is _success_, and I'll work for it till I drop!" CHAPTER ELEVEN. TOM'S EXAMINATION. A day in bed renewed Rhoda's energy, and she took up her work with unabated fervour. The "lists" were, perhaps, less conspicuously displayed than before, but were none the less in readiness when needed, and if Miss Everett disapproved, the Latin mistress was all praise and congratulation.