Our bedrooms at The Hollies were rather a feature of the school. They were so arranged that the two little beds and the washstand could be screened off by a curtain, leaving the rest as a sitting-room. A table and two chairs stood in the window, and during the summer term we were allowed to prepare our lessons here instead of in the school-room, a privilege we much appreciated, but which was at once forfeited if we were caught talking during the study hours. It was a point of honour for each girl to make her bedroom as pretty as possible, and we vied with one another in the way of photo-frames, artistic table-covers, book-shelves, mats, and china ornaments. We were allowed to buy flowers on Saturday mornings for our vases, and must have been quite a source of income to the funny old man at a certain stall in the market, who kept us plentifully supplied according to the season.

"What was you wantin'? Don't know 'em, leastways by that name," as I enquired for lilacs. "Oh, ay, loylacs! Here you have 'em, purple and white, and no charge extry for smell. Roses? I can bring 'em next week, both Glory Johns and Jack Minnots" (he meant Gloire de Dijon and Jacqueminots!). "Sweet peas is gettin' on gradely, and Fair Maids o' France, just ready for the fair maids who buy 'em!" with an attempt at a compliment which was severely repressed by Miss Percy, who whisked us away in a hurry lest the old man should become "too familiar".

But to return to Cathy. Whenever possible I sat next her in school, I was her partner when we walked out "in crocodile", and she kindly initiated me into the mysteries of cricket, Badminton, archery, and croquet, in all of which I had hitherto been profoundly ignorant. She was a most stimulating companion. A little older than myself, and brought up among a family of brothers, she had all the frank open ways of a boy, with the pretty attractive manners which often mark a much-thought-of only daughter. To hear her talk took me into a new world. Instead of the ordinary topics common among school-girls, the lessons, the games, the chances for the next prize, or grumbles at Miss Percy's tiresome rules, she would tell me about her home, and the delightful round of hobbies and interests which seemed to make up their life at Marshlands. I did not know before that people pressed ferns, collected shells and sea-weeds, painted studies of birds and flowers, scoured the hills in search of antiquities, and held classes for wood-carving among the village boys. At my aunt's I had heard of none of these things. I had lived almost entirely in the nursery and school-room, and on the few occasions when I had been allowed to come down to the drawing-room the conversation was certainly far from intellectual.

"But do your father and mother go out to picnics, and hunt for shells, and help you to paste sea-weeds in books?" I asked, almost incredulously.

"Why, of course! They enjoy it as much as we do. Father is tremendously keen on butterflies, and Mother is making a collection of mosses and lichens. It wouldn't be half the fun unless they did everything with us. Just wait until you come to stay at Marshlands and then you'll see for yourself. Mother means to ask you, I know."

I very much hoped she would, as I could imagine no greater treat than a visit to Cathy's home. I longed to see all the places she had described, and to meet the people of whom she had spoken, and to share in the many tempting projects which she seemed to be planning. I was proud of her friendship, for she was popular at school, and could have taken her choice of playmates among girls who were both older and cleverer than myself. To be thus singled out as her special companion seemed an honour of which I felt scarcely worthy, and my letters to my father were mainly filled with ecstatic praises of my new friend.

CHAPTER V
THE WINSTANLEYS

"Thus fortune's pleasant fruits by friends increased be;
The bitter, sharp, and sour by friends allay'd to thee,
That when thou dost rejoice, then doubled is thy joy;
And eke in cause of care, the less is thy annoy."

I SPENT my first holidays at Marshlands, and my joy knew no bounds. To have Cathy all to myself for seven long glorious weeks seemed the absolute summit of earthly bliss. Mrs. Winstanley received me like a second daughter, and the bluff jolly squire patted me on the head with kindly welcome.