‘But she has Aunt Catherine,’ said Mary, thinking that he was putting the natural guardian out of the question as much now as in the days referred to.

’My grandmother never had to do with any girl before, and does not profess to understand them.  She let Clara be regularly a boy in school, at first learning the same lessons, and then teaching; and whatever I tried to impress in the feminine line, naturally, all went for nothing.  She is as wild as a hare, and has not a particle of a girl about her!’

‘But she is very young.’

’There it is again!  She grows so outrageously.  She is not sixteen, and there she is taller than granny already.  It is getting quite absurd.’

‘What advice do you want on that head?’

’Seriously, it is a disadvantage, especially to that sort of girl, who can’t afford to look like a woman before her time.  Well, as she must probably depend on herself, I looked out for as good a school as could be had for the means, and thought I had succeeded, and that she would be brought into some sort of shape.  Granny was ready to break her heart, but thought it quite right.’

‘Then, does it not answer?’

’That is just what I can’t tell.  You have been used to schools:  I wish you could tell me whether it is a necessary evil, or Clara’s own idiosyncrasy, or peculiar to the place.’

‘Whether what is?’

‘Her misery!’

’Misery!  Why, there is nothing of that in her letters to my aunt.  There is not a complaint.’

’She is a brave girl, who spares granny, when she knows it would be of no use to distress her.  Judge now, there’s the sort of letter that I get from her.’

Mary read.

’Dearest Jemmy,—­Write to me as quick as ever you can, and tell me how Louis is; and let me come home, or I shall run mad.  It is no good telling me to command my feelings; I am sure I would if I could, for the girls are more detestable than ever; but what can one do when one cannot sleep nor eat?  All the screaming and crying has got into one bump in my throat, because I can’t get it out in peace.  If I could only shy the inkstand at the English teacher’s head! or get one moment alone and out of sight!  Let me come home.  I could at least run messages; and it is of no use for me to stay here, for I can’t learn, and all the girls are looking at me.  If they were but boys, they would have sense! or if I could but kick them!  This will make you angry, but do forgive me; I can’t help it, for I am so very unhappy.  Louis is as much to me as you are, and no one ever was so kind; but I know he will get well—­I know he will; only if I knew the pain was better, and could but hear every minute.  You need not come to fetch me; only send me a telegraph, and one to Miss Brigham.  I have money enough for a second-class ticket, and would come that instant.  If you saw the eyes and heard the whispers of these girls, I am sure you would.  I should laugh at such nonsense any other time, but now I only ask to be wretched quietly in a corner. 
              ’Your affectionate, nearly crazy, sister,
                                       ‘Clara frost Dynevor.’