In the evening they went to a new comic opera, and it is the music of that which brings back the day most vividly to Honora’s mind.

In the morning they took an early train to Sutcliffe Manors, on the Hudson.  It is an historic place.  First of all, after leaving the station, you climb through the little town clinging to the hillside; and Honora was struck by the quaint houses and shops which had been places of barter before the Revolution.  The age of things appealed to her.  It was a brilliant day at the very end of September, the air sharp, and here and there a creeper had been struck crimson.  Beyond the town, on the slopes, were other new sights to stimulate the imagination:  country houses—­not merely houses in the country, but mansions—­enticingly hidden among great trees in a way to whet Honora’s curiosity as she pictured to herself the blissful quality of the life which their owners must lead.  Long, curving driveways led up to the houses from occasional lodges; and once, as though to complete the impression, a young man and two women, superbly mounted, came trotting out of one of these driveways, talking and laughing gayly.  Honora took a good look at the man.  He was not handsome, but had, in fact, a distinguished and haunting ugliness.  The girls were straight-featured and conventional to the last degree.

Presently they came to the avenue of elms that led up to the long, low buildings of the school.

Little more will be necessary, in the brief account of Honora’s life at boarding-school, than to add an humble word of praise on the excellence of Miss Turner’s establishment.  That lady, needless to say, did not advertise in the magazines, or issue a prospectus.  Parents were more or less in the situation of the candidates who desired the honour and privilege of whitewashing Tom Sawyer’s fence.  If you were a parent, and were allowed to confide your daughter to Miss Turner, instead of demanding a prospectus, you gave thanks to heaven, and spoke about it to your friends.

The life of the young ladies, of course, was regulated on the strictest principles.  Early rising, prayers, breakfast, studies; the daily walk, rain or shine, under the watchful convoy of Miss Hood, the girls in columns of twos; tennis on the school court, or skating on the school pond.  Cotton Mather himself could not have disapproved of the Sundays, nor of the discourse of the elderly Doctor Moale (which you heard if you were not a Presbyterian), although the reverend gentleman was distinctly Anglican in appearance and manners.  Sometimes Honora felt devout, and would follow the service with the utmost attention.  Her religion came in waves.  On the Sundays when the heathen prevailed she studied the congregation, grew to distinguish the local country families; and, if the truth must be told, watched for several Sundays for that ugly yet handsome young man whom she had seen on horseback.  But he never appeared, and presently she forgot him.