Dorothy’s sweet eyes suddenly flashed.

“Doesn’t she think my papa would keep Aunt Charlotte’s house as comfortable as ours?” she said.

“Oh, ’tisn’t that!” laughed Nina, “she said she felt obliged to find out if the cottage was a healthy place for a private school to be in, before she could say that Arabella might belong to the class!  Did you ever hear anything like that?”

“Well, what makes her let Arabella come to our school?” queried blunt little Mollie; “she could go to the public school.  I guess we wouldn’t mind.”

“Mamma says we must be kind to Arabella,” said Dorothy, “so I think we mustn’t speak like that.”  “I’ll be kind to her when she comes,” said Mollie, “because your mamma wishes it, but now, before school begins, I’m going to say that I just wish Arabella was going to the other school.”

The others felt, as Mollie did, that the class would be quite as pleasant if Arabella attended the public school, but they did not like to say so.

* * * * *

The few days of waiting were past, and now the first day of school had come.  The door of the pretty stone cottage stood wide open, as if assuring a welcome to the little pupils who would soon arrive, while the sunlight streamed in across the hall, giving a cheery greeting.

On the rug sat Pompey, the cat, his fine coat sleek and glossy, and his white bosom as pure as much washing could make it.  His paws were snugly tucked in, and he purred softly to himself as if he knew that it was nearly time for the pupils to arrive, and remembered that the little girls had been very fond of him.

In the cheery sitting-room, which was used as a schoolroom, sat Aunt Charlotte Grayson, looking over some books which lay upon the table.

Her soft gray gown and broad lace collar were most becoming, and she looked every inch the gentlewoman that she really was.  She had once been Mrs. Dainty’s governess, and now, as mistress of a thriving private school, she was independent and happy.  The class was not a large one, but the little pupils belonged to families who were well able to pay generously for fine instruction, and her home at the stone cottage was a loving gift from Mr. and Mrs. Dainty.  Mrs. Grayson had permitted Dorothy and Nancy to call her “Aunt Charlotte,” and now it had become the loving title by which all her pupils addressed her.

She was eager to have her little class assemble, and, wondering if they were late, she looked at her watch.

“Quarter of nine,” she said, and as if he understood what she had said, Pompey blinked up at the tall clock, yawned, and looked at the door.

The sound of merry voices made him prick up his ears.  A moment more, and Dorothy and Nancy, Mollie and Flossie, Nina and Jeanette Earl ran up the steps and in at the open door.  Pompey received his usual number of love-pats, and then the girls, having hung their hats and coats in the hall, walked quietly in to greet Aunt Charlotte.  It was a fixed rule at the private school that there should never be any haste in reaching places in the schoolroom.