Excerpt
CHAPTER I. A SCHOOL-GIRL QUARREL.
"Girls, girls, I've news for you!" cried Winnifred Blake, entering the school-room and surveying the faces of her school-mates with great eagerness.
Luncheon hour was almost over, and the pupils belonging to Mrs. Elder's Select Establishment for Young Ladies were gathered together in the large school-room, some enjoying a merry chat, others, more studiously inclined, conning over a forthcoming lesson.
"Give us the benefit of your news quickly, Winnie," said Ada Irvine, looking round from her snug seat on the broad window-ledge; "surely we must be going to hear something wonderful when you are so excited;" and the girl eyed her animated school-fellow half scornfully.
"A new pupil is coming," announced Winnie with an air of great solemnity. "Be patient, my friends, and I'll tell you how I know. Dinner being earlier to-day, I managed to get back to school sooner than usual, and was just crossing the hall to join you all in the school-room, when the drawing-room door opened, and Mrs. Elder appeared, accompanied by a lady in a long loose cloak and huge bonnet—regular coal-scuttle affair, girls; so large, in fact, that it was quite impossible to get a glimpse of her face. Mrs. Elder was saying as I passed, 'I shall expect your niece to-morrow morning, Miss Latimer, at nine o'clock; and trust she will prosecute her studies with all diligence, and prove a credit to the school.'" Winnie mimicked the lady-principal's soft, plausible voice as she spoke.
"A new pupil!" remarked Ada once more, her voice raised in supreme contempt; "really, Winnie, I fail to understand your excitement over such a trifle. Why, she may be a green-grocer's daughter for all you know to the contrary;" and the speaker's dainty nose was turned up with a gesture of infinite scorn.
"Well, and what then, Miss Conceit?" retorted Winnie, flushing angrily at her school-mate's contemptuous tone; "I presume a green-grocer's daughter is not exempted from possessing the same talented abilities which characterize your charming self."
"Certainly not," replied the other with the same quiet ring of scorn in her voice; "but, pray, who would associate with a green-grocer's daughter? Most assuredly not I. My mother is very particular with regard to the circle in which I move."
Winnie swept a graceful courtesy.
"Allow me to express my deep sense of obligation," she said mockingly, "at the honour conferred on my unworthy self by your attempted patronage and esteem." Then, changing her tone and raising her little head proudly—"Ada Irvine, I am ashamed of you—your pride is insufferable; and my heartiest wish is that some day you may be looked down upon and viewed with the supreme contempt you now bestow on those lower (most unfortunately) in the social scale than yourself."
"Thanks for your amiable wish," was the answer, given in that easy, tranquil voice which the owner well knew irritated her adversary more than the fiercest burst of passion would have done; "but I am afraid there is little likelihood of its ever being realized."
Winnie elevated her eyebrows....