For the Sake of the School | Page 5

greatly missed.

Miss Teddington, younger by many years, took a more active part in
the teaching, and superintended the games and outdoor sports. She was
tall and athletic, a good mathematician, and interested in archæology
and nature study. She led the walks and rambles, taught the Sixth Form,
and represented the more scholastic and modern element. Her
enterprise initiated all fresh undertakings, and her enthusiasm carried
them forward with success. "Hard-as-nails" the girls sometimes called
her, for she coddled nobody and expected the utmost from each one's
capacity. If she was rather uncompromising, however, she was just, and
a strong vein of humour toned down much of the severity of her
remarks. To be chided by a person whose eye is capable of twinkling
takes part of the sting from the reprimand, and the general verdict of
the school was to the effect that "Teddie was a keen old watch-dog, but
her bark was worse than her bite."
Of the other mistresses and girls we will say more anon. Having
introduced my readers to The Woodlands, it is time for the story to
begin.
CHAPTER II
A Friend from the Bush
Ulyth Stanton was a decided personality in the Lower Fifth. If not
exactly pretty, she was a dainty little damsel, and knew how to make
the best of herself. Her fair hair was glossy and waved in the most
becoming fashion, her clothes were well cut, her gloves and shoes
immaculate. She had an artistic temperament, and loved to be
surrounded by pretty things. She was rather a favourite at The
Woodlands, for she had few sharp angles and possessed a fair share of
tact. If the girls laughed sometimes at what they called her
"high-falutin' notions" they nevertheless respected her opinions and
admired her more than they always chose to admit. It was an accepted
fact that Ulyth stuck to her word and generally carried through anything
that she once undertook. She alone of six members of her form who
had begun to correspond with girls abroad, at the instigation of the
magazine editor, had written regularly, and had cultivated the overseas

friendship with enthusiasm. The element of romance about the affair
had appealed to Ulyth. It was so strange to receive letters from
someone you had never seen. To be sure, Rona had only given a
somewhat bald account of her home and her doings, but even this
outline was so different from English life that Ulyth's imagination filled
the gaps, and pictured her unknown correspondent among scenes of
unrivalled interest and excitement. Ulyth had once seen a most
wonderful film entitled "Rose of the Wilderness", and though the
scenes depicted were supposed to be in the region of the Wild West,
she decided that they would equally well represent the backwoods of
New Zealand, and that the beautiful, dashing, daring heroine, so aptly
called "the Prairie Flower", was probably a speaking likeness of Rona
Mitchell. When she learnt that owing to her letters Rona's father had
determined to send his daughter to school at The Woodlands, her
excitement was immense. She had at once petitioned Miss Bowes to
have her as a room-mate, and was now awaiting her advent with the
very keenest anticipation.
There was a little uncertainty about the time of the new girl's arrival,
for it depended upon the punctuality of the ocean liner, a doubtful
matter if there were a storm; and the feeling that she might be expected
any hour between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. made havoc of Ulyth's day. It was
impossible to attend to lessons when she was listening for the sound of
a taxi on the drive, and even the attractions of tennis could not decoy
her out of sight of the front door.
"I must be the very first to welcome her," she persisted. "Of course it's
not the same to all the rest of you--I understand that. She's to be my
special property, my Prairie Rose!"
"All serene! If you care to waste your time lounging about the steps
you can. We're not in such a frantic state to see your paragon," laughed
the girls as they ran down the garden to the courts. After all, the waiting
was in vain. Tea-time came without a sign of the new-comer. It was
unlikely that she would turn up now until the evening train, and Ulyth
resigned herself to the inevitable. But when the school was almost
half-way through its bread and butter and gooseberry jam, a sudden

commotion occurred in the hall. There was a noise such as nobody ever
remembered to have heard at The Woodlands before.
"Thank goodness gracious I've got meself here at last!" cried a loud
nasal voice. "Where'll I stick these things? Oh yes, there's heaps more
inside that automobile! Travelling's no joke, I