"No," breathed Angel in a quick whisper.
"Very well, then bear in mind that you will have to change your ways; you must work as do other girls, conform to the school rules. You have been endowed with gifts that are uncommon, and yet you only misuse them, in order to make your companions as idle and reckless as yourself. Unless you undertake to improve, and give me your word that you will show a good example for the future, I shall be obliged to write to your guardian, and ask him to remove you at once."
Angel's face grew pale, her eyes looked black, and tragic.
"I hate school!" she burst out, passionately.
"In that case, you may be sure that school will hate you," was the prompt rejoinder, "and the sooner you leave it the better. But why do you hate school?"
"I don't know."
"What a silly answer for an intelligent girl! Then I can tell you; the reason is, because you are unaccustomed to rules, and regularity; it is a different life to the one you have led. I am aware that you are an orphan. Tell me, dear child," now leaning towards her, "do you love no one in the whole world, not even yourself? Come—won't you speak to me?" she pleaded very low.
"Yes," rejoined the child, straightening her little figure, "I love Philip."
"You mean Mr. Gascoigne, your guardian?"
Angel nodded, and her face worked, despite her precocious self-control.