The convent was situated on a hilltop, and through the green garden the
white dresses of the schoolgirls fluttered like the snowy plumage of a
hundred doves. Obeying a sudden impulse, a flock of little ones would
race through a deluge of leaf-entangled rays towards a pet companion
standing at the end of a gravel-walk examining the flower she has just
picked, the sunlight glancing along her little white legs proudly and
charmingly advanced. The elder girls in their longer skirts were more
dignified, but when they caught sight of a favourite sister, they too
ran forward, and then retreated timidly, as if afraid of committing an
indiscretion.

It was prize-day in the Convent of the Holy Child, and since early
morning all had been busy preparing for the arrival of the Bishop. His
throne had been set at one end of the school-hall, and at the other the
carpenters had erected a stage for the performance of _King Cophetua_, a
musical sketch written by Miss Alice Barton for the occasion.

Alice Barton was what is commonly known as a plain girl. At home, during
the holidays, she often heard that the dressmaker could not fit her; but
though her shoulders were narrow and prim, her arms long and almost
awkward, there was a character about the figure that commanded
attention. Alice was now turned twenty; she was the eldest, the
best-beloved, and the cleverest girl in the school. It was not,
therefore, on account of any backwardness in her education that she had
been kept so long out of society, but because Mrs. Barton thought that,
as her two girls were so different in appearance, it would be well for
them to come out together. Against this decision Alice said nothing,
and, like a tall arum lily, she had grown in the convent from girl to