herself, for the hundredth time, the new life towards which she was
journeying, and, as always, in the brightest colours.

She had arrived at school, and in a spacious apartment, which was a kind
of glorified Mother's drawing-room, was being introduced to a
bevy of girls. They clustered round, urgent to make the acquaintance of
the newcomer, who gave her hand to each with an easy grace and an
appropriate word. They were too well-bred to cast a glance at her
clothes, which, however she might embellish them in fancy, Laura knew
were not what they ought to be: her ulster was some years old, and so
short that it did not cover the flounce of her dress, and this dress,
and her hat with it, were Mother's taste, and consequently, Laura felt
sure, nobody else's. But her new companions saw that she wore these
clothes with an elegance that made up for their shortcomings; and she
heard them whisper: "Isn't she pretty? What black eyes! What lovely
curls!" But she was not proud, and by her ladylike manners soon made
them feel at home with her, even though they stood agape at her
cleverness: none of THEM could claim to have absorbed the knowledge of a
whole house. With one of her admirers she had soon formed a friendship
that was the wonder of all who saw it: in deep respect the others drew
back, forming a kind of allee, down which, with linked arms, the two
friends sauntered, blind to everything but themselves.--And having
embarked thus upon her sea of dreams, Laura set sail and was speedily
borne away.

"Next station you'll be there, little girl."

She sprang up and looked about her, with vacant eyes. This had been the
last stoppage, and the train was passing through the flats. In less than
two minutes she had collected her belongings, tidied her hair and put on