The girls had never been trained in high principles. They had been brought up anyhow. The rector was not a specially admirable man. It is true, he lived according to his lights, but these did not carry him far. His children were motherless, and it did not occur to him to suspect the girl into whose care he placed them. He was devoted to his poorer parishioners, and was kindness itself to them, denying himself many things for their benefit. But it was his object in life to do what he could for his orphans, and he thought he had done so when he put such a pretty, charming girl as Brenda Carlton over their heads. He believed fully in Brenda, and admired her immensely. He thought her a truly Christian young woman; for she was regular in her attendance at church, and always looked--he considered--so sweet and interested when he preached to her. It was wonderful how he found himself preaching directly to her, Sunday after Sunday, suiting his words to her need and thinking of her as he addressed, or was supposed to address, his congregation. As to the children's education, he expected them to go to Sunday school; but as their teacher there was no other than Brenda herself, it cannot be said that they gained much by this special instruction. Brenda looked very pretty when she taught her class. Most of the time she told them good little stories, which they listened to when they were not too restless, and when Brenda herself was not too charmingly attired. On the whole, the girls were ripe for a fall, and Brenda had no compunction in saving herself at their expense. These three girls had, however, a considerable amount of character, and, strange as it may seem, the one the governess most dreaded was the youngest. For Nina was exceedingly fearless, and also rather cunning, and Brenda was not quite certain that if she gave her word she would keep it. The governess felt pretty sure that she could manage Fanchon and Josephine, but Nina was different. All things considered, however, she had to make the best of a bad job, and if she could only get through that happy time at Marshlands-on-the-Sea, she felt convinced that all would be well with her in the future. She, accordingly, welcomed Fanchon now with a smile, and immediately took the lead. "Just for all the world," repeated Fanchon afterwards when she gave her sisters a partial account of this interview, "as if _she_ were in the right and I was her little culprit at the bar!" "Sit down, dear Fanchon," said Brenda. "Take this cosy seat by the open window--isn't the night very warm?" "Yes--very," said Fanchon. She took the proffered seat and the governess placed herself on the window ledge near by. "We shall enjoy our time at the sea," said Brenda, "shall we not?" Fanchon did not answer. She was gazing in surprise at Brenda, who, prettily dressed in soft white muslin, looked more charming even than usual.