In appearance Cassandra was a tall, well-made girl, graceful in her movements, and very self-possessed in manner.  Her face was full of intelligence, but was rather plain than otherwise, for her mouth was too wide and her nose the reverse of classical.  She had bright intelligent brown eyes, however, a nice voice, and a pleasant way.  Cassandra was looked up to by all her fellow-students, and this not because she was rich, nor because she was beautiful, but simply because she was good and honorable and trustworthy; she possessed a large amount of sympathy for nearly every one, her tact was unfailing, and she was never self-assertive.

Now Cassandra, who had many friends in the school, had amongst them, of course, her greatest friend.  This girl was called Florence Archer.  Florence was pretty and clever, but she had neither Cassandra’s depth nor power of intellect.  She was naturally vain and frivolous, except in the presence of her dearest friend.  She was easily influenced by others, and it was her habit to follow the one who gave her the last advice.  Her passionate love for Cassandra was perhaps her best and strongest quality; but of late she had exhibited a sense of almost unwarrantable jealousy when any other girl showed a preference for her special friend.  Florence was a very nice girl, but jealousy was her bane.  She thought a good deal of herself, for her father was a rich man, and only took advantage of the Great Shirley education because it was incomparably the best in the place.  There was no rule against any one attending the school, and he had long ago secured a niche in it for his favorite daughter.  Florence loved it and hated it at the same time.  She was fond of her own companions, but she could not bear the foundation girls.  These girls made a large percentage in the school.  In all respects they were supposed to be Florence’s equals, but as a matter of fact they were kept in a very subordinate position by the paying girls.  On every possible occasion they were avoided, and there must be something very special about any one of them if she was taken up by the aristocrats—­as they termed themselves—­of the school.

But Cassandra as a rule was perfectly sweet and pleasant to the foundation girls, and this trait in her friend’s character annoyed Florence more than anything else.

On the morning after Ruth Craven had been admitted to the school Cassandra was one of the first arrivals.  She was standing in the wide courtyard waiting for the school doors to be opened.  She looked, as usual, bright and capable.  A stream of girls were surrounding her, each smiling and trying to draw her attention.  Cassandra was a girl of few words, and after nodding to her companions, she gave them to understand that she did not intend to enter into any special conversation.  Her neat satchel of school-books was slung on her arm.  She wore a very dark-blue serge dress, and her white sailor-hat looked correct and pretty on her shining brown hair.