would have given anything to be out of that room. Any sudden catastrophe which would have averted the terrible ordeal of confronting Miss Euston would have been welcomed by her. Had she been alone, she would have tried her voice to see how it sounded in English, but Mdlle. Parmier was there; so she only coughed a little to clear her throat. She tried to cough softly, as she had heard Mdlle. Parmier do; but she fancied her voice sounded hoarse and vulgar. She cast a gaze towards a mirror placed at one end of the room. What a plebeian figure!

Hark! what was that? a soft tread was heard approaching. The French lady looked up from her book, and fixing her eyes encouragingly on the little girl, she said: "Miss Euston sera bien aise de vous voir; parlez-vous l'anglais?"

"Un peu, mademoiselle," said Adèle, and the door opened.

The dreaded form of Miss Euston entered the room.

"Dis is de yong Ma'm'sel Rougeant," said the French lady, introducing Adèle to the newly-arrived lady.

The latter, a tall, refined and amiable lady, advanced towards Adèle with a pleasant air, and such a kind smile lighting up her intelligent features that the little girl felt immediately drawn towards her.

Miss Euston at once saw that Adèle was timid and feeling very uncomfortable.

She took the child's hand in her own and said kindly: "I am very glad you have come, Adèle; but, your hands are quite cold; come nearer to the fire."

Adèle stood up. Miss Euston put the chair nearer to the fire, placed the child upon it, and began to chat in quite a friendly way.

Mdlle. Parmier retired. Adèle's fears had vanished like a cloud of smoke. She felt more than simple admiration for Miss Euston; she experienced a kind of veneration for her.

Had an angel from heaven entered the room instead of this lady, Adèle would not have been much more dazzled than she now was.

"Do you understand English?" inquired Miss Euston while helping her pupil to warm her hands.

"Not much, ma'am."

"Then you shall soon learn, for I can see a pair of intelligent eyes beaming under those chestnut curls."

Adèle smiled. She felt a kind of bitter and sweet happiness. The dreaded introduction was over, but now there were the little girls to encounter. What kind of reception would they give her?

"I am going to have two new dresses for you to try on presently," said Miss Euston; "now, come, let me show you your bed chamber."

Adèle was delighted with her bedroom. How neat the little crib looked. Miss Rader had told her that the people from town never had white linen; they knew not how to wash, and, besides, the smoke caused their once white linen to look grimy.

After having asked Adèle if she was pleased with her room, and the little child having answered: "Yes, ma'am, very much," Miss Euston led her into the schoolroom where about twenty young girls were assembled. They were being directed to their respective places by Mdlle. Parmier.

Miss Euston told Adèle that she would not do anything that day but familiarize herself with her new surroundings.

She gave her a nice book full of beautiful pictures to look at. Then she began to attend to a class of the bigger girls.

Adèle felt her heart sink a little when Miss Euston left her, but she managed to pluck up courage and was soon absorbed looking at the beautiful pictures in her book. She timidly raised her eyes from time to time and gazed upon the young group of girls who were near her. Two of them she perceived were looking at her, and exchanging glances, after which they tittered.

This made Adèle's blood rush to her face. She knew they were laughing at her and she felt uneasy. "I am as good as they are. Just let them wait till I have my new dresses," she thought.

She made up her mind not to look at them and kept steadily looking at her book. But the pictures had lost their charm. Her little soul revolted against the treatment to which she was being subjected by these two little girls.

When the time for recreation arrived, Miss Euston took Adèle by the hand and led her up to two other girls; one about Adèle's age, the other two years older. She told them to take care of their new and future companion. She was sure, she added, that they would make things pleasant for her. "Yes, ma'am,—come," they said to their new acquaintance. They led her out of the schoolroom and amused her during the whole time that was set apart for recreation purposes. By the time the bell rang for the pupils to form classes, the three little girls were as friendly as could be. Adèle forgot all about the little girls that had laughed at her.

Later on in the evening, she discovered that her two little companions were the only boarders beside herself.

The day after her entrance, an event occurred which deserves perhaps to be narrated.

Adèle walked alone down the Grange, turned to the right, and not knowing where she was going, found herself in a lane called George Street.

She was busily engaged contemplating a poor little crippled girl, when the latter's crutch slipped and she fell prone on the road.

She got up quickly, however, seized her crutch and looked anxiously round to see if someone had perceived her.

Adèle stood near, smiling.

The girl in rags went up to her. "What'r'yer laughin' at, yer dressed up doll?" she said. (Adèle had one of her new dresses on.) "If you don't stop it," she continued threateningly, "I'll give yer such a bloomin' smack as 'l' make you think you're in the beginnin' o' next week."

Adèle did "stop it," and hastily walked away.

"What!" she said to herself, "can these little girls from town beat you soundly enough to make you think you are in the beginning of the week to come? They must be clever. I will ask Miss Euston about it."

CHAPTER IV.