“Ah, so do I, but they shan’t hate me if I know it! I’m sorry I snapped, but I’ll talk now, and for pity’s sake don’t look so dismal. Let us look over this paper together, and make remarks, and smile as if we were enjoying ourselves too.”
“I don’t feel as if I should ever enjoy myself again. It’s hateful going to school. If I had known it was as bad as this I would never have come.”
“There’s a lake in the grounds. We will drown ourselves together after tea, but in the meantime do please keep up appearances. Don’t give yourself away before all these girls!”
Rhoda looked at her curiously, and felt a thrill of comfort at finding a friend in the midst of her desolation. “What is your name?” she queried eagerly, and the dark eyes met hers in a solemn stare.
“Marah, for bitterness. That’s how I feel to-day, anyhow. My godmothers and godfather christened me Dorothy, and in festive moments I have even answered to ‘Doll,’ but I’d murder any one who called me that to-day. Now, I’ll show you something interesting... I’ve travelled on this line before, and if you look out of the window you can catch a glimpse of Hurst Manor as we pass the next station. It stands in its own grounds with nothing between it and the line. Over there to the right—you can’t miss it if you keep your eyes open. Now! There! That gaunt, grey building.”
Rhoda looked, and there it lay—a gaunt building, indeed, with row upon row of tall, bare windows staring like so many eyes, and out-standing wings flanked like sentinels on either side. The poor recruit’s face lengthened with horror.
“It looks,” she said dismally, “like a prison! It looks as if when you once got in, you would never never get out any more!”