CHAPTER IV

Saturday at Alton College, nominally a half holiday, was really a whole
one. Classes in gymnastics, dancing, elocution, and drawing were held
in the morning. The afternoon was spent at lawn tennis, to which
lady guests resident in the neighborhood were allowed to bring their
husbands, brothers, and fathers--Miss Wilson being anxious to send
her pupils forth into the world free from the uncouth stiffness of
schoolgirls unaccustomed to society.

Late in October came a Saturday which proved anything but a holiday
for Miss Wilson. At half-past one, luncheon being over, she went out of
doors to a lawn that lay between the southern side of the college and a
shrubbery. Here she found a group of girls watching Agatha and Jane, who
were dragging a roller over the grass. One of them, tossing a ball about
with her racket, happened to drive it into the shrubbery, whence, to the
surprise of the company, Smilash presently emerged, carrying the ball,
blinking, and proclaiming that, though a common man, he had his feelings
like another, and that his eye was neither a stick nor a stone. He
was dressed as before, but his garments, soiled with clay and lime, no
longer looked new.

"What brings you here, pray?" demanded Miss Wilson.

"I was led into the belief that you sent for me, lady," he replied.
"The baker's lad told me so as he passed my 'umble cot this morning. I
thought he were incapable of deceit."

"That is quite right; I did send for you. But why did you not go round