For the Sake of the School | Page 8

Lizzie Lonsdale. "Her eyes are the bluest
I've ever seen."
"And her teeth are so white and even," added Beth Broadway. "She
looks jolly when she smiles."
"Perhaps she'll smarten up soon," suggested Addie Knighton. "That
blue dress suits her; it just matches her eyes."
To Ulyth's fastidious taste Rona's clothes looked hopelessly ill-cut and
colonial, especially as her room-mate put them on anyhow, and seemed
to have no regard at all for appearances. A girl who did not mind
whether she looked really trim, spruce and smart, must indeed have
spent her life in the backwoods.
"Didn't you even have a governess in New Zealand?" she ventured one
day. She did not encourage Rona to talk, but for once her curiosity
overcame her dislike of the high-pitched voice.
"Couldn't get one to stop up-country, where we were. Mrs. Barker, our
cowman's wife, looked after me ever since Mother died. She was the
only woman about the place. One of our farm helps taught me lessons.
He was a B.A. of Oxford, but down on his luck. Dad said I'd seem
queer to English girls. I don't know that I care."
Though Rona might not be possessed of the most delicate perceptions,
she nevertheless had common sense enough to realize that Ulyth did
not receive her with enthusiasm.
"I suppose you're disappointed in me?" she queried. "Dad said you
would be, but I laughed at him. Pity if our ready-made friendship
turned out a misfit! I think you're no end! Dad said I'd got to copy you;
it'll take me all my time, I expect. Things are so different here from

home."
Was there a suspicion of a choke in the words?
Ulyth had a sudden pang of compunction. Unwelcome as her
companion was to her, she did not wish to be brutal.
"You mustn't get home-sick," she said hastily. "You'll shake down here
in time. Everyone finds things strange at school just at first. I did
myself."
"I guess you were never as much a fish out of water as me, though,"
returned Rona, and went whistling down the passage.
Ulyth tried to dismiss her from her thoughts. She did not intend to
worry over Rona more than she could possibly help. Fortunately they
were not together in class, for Rona's entrance-examination papers had
not reached the standard of the Lower Fifth, and she had been placed in
IV B.
Ulyth was interested in her school-work. She stood well with her
teachers, and was an acknowledged force in her form. She came from a
very refined and cultured home, where intellectual interests were
cultivated both by father and mother. Her temperament was naturally
artistic; she was an omnivorous reader, and could devour anything in
the shape of literature that came her way. The bookcase in her
dormitory was filled with beautiful volumes, mostly Christmas and
birthday gifts. She rejoiced in their soft leather bindings or fine
illustrations with a true book-lover's enthusiasm. It was her pride to
keep them in daintiest condition. Dog-ears or thumb-marks were in her
opinion the depths of degradation. Ulyth had ambitions also, ambitions
which she would not reveal to anybody. Some day she planned to write
a book of her own. She had not yet fixed on a subject, but she had
decided just what the cover was to be like, with her name on it in gilt
letters. Perhaps she might even illustrate it herself, for her love of art
almost equalled her love of literature; but that was still in the clouds,
and must wait till she had chosen her plot. In the interim she wrote
verses and short stories for the school magazine, and her essays for

Miss Teddington were generally returned marked "highly creditable".
This term Ulyth intended to study hard. It was a promotion to be in the
Upper School; she was beginning several new subjects, and her interest
in many things was aroused. It would be a delightful autumn as soon as
she had got rid of this dreadful problem, at present the one serious
obstacle to her comfort. But in the meantime it was only Friday, and till
at least the following Monday she would be obliged to endure her
uncongenial presence in her bedroom.
CHAPTER III
Round the Camp-fire
It was the first Saturday of the term. So far the girls had been kept
busily occupied settling down to work in their fresh forms, and trying
to grow accustomed to Miss Teddington's new time-tables. Now,
however, they were free to relax and enjoy themselves in any way they
chose. Some were playing tennis, some had gone for a walk with Miss
Moseley, a few were squatting frog-like on boulders in the midst of the
stream, and others strolled under the trees in the grove.
"Thank goodness the weather's