Annie Forest had scarcely left the room before Miss Danesbury appeared
with a message for Hester, who was to come with her directly to see Mrs
Willis. The poor shy girl felt only too glad to leave behind her the
cruel, staring, and now by no means approving eyes of her school-mates.
She had overheard several of their whispers, and felt rather alarmed at
her own act. But Hester, shy as she was, could be very tenacious of an
idea. She had taken a dislike to Annie Forest, and she was quite
determined to be true to what she considered her convictions--namely,
that Annie was underbred and common, and not at all the kind of girl
whom her mother would have cared for her to know. The little girl
followed Miss Danesbury in silence. They crossed the stone hall
together, and now passing through another baize door, found themselves
once more in the handsome entrance-hall. They walked across this hall
to a door carefully protected from all draughts by rich plush curtains,
and Miss Danesbury, turning the handle, and going a step or two into the
room, said in her gentle voice--
"I have brought Hester Thornton to see you, Mrs Willis, according to
your wish."
Miss Danesbury then withdrew, and Hester ventured to raise her eyes and
to look timidly at the head-mistress.
A tall woman, with a beautiful face and silvery white hair, came
instantly to meet her, laid her two hands on the girl's shoulders, and
then, raising her shy little face, imprinted a kiss on her forehead.
"Your mother was one of my earliest pupils, Hester," she said, "and you
are--no--" after a pause, "you are not very like her. You are her
child, however, my dear, and as such you have a warm welcome from me.
Now, come and sit by the fire, and let us talk."
Hester did not feel nearly so constrained with this graceful and
gracious lady as she had done with her school-mates. The atmosphere of
the room recalled her beloved mother's boudoir at home. The rich,
dove-coloured satin dress, the cap made of Mechlin lace which softened
and shaded Mrs Willis's silvery hair, appeared homelike to the little
girl, who had grown up accustomed to all the luxuries of wealth. Above
all, the head-mistress's mention of her mother drew her heart toward the
beautiful face, and attracted her toward the rich, full tones of a voice
which could be powerful and commanding at will. Mrs Willis,
notwithstanding her white hair, had a youthful face, and Hester made the
comment which came first to her lips--
"I did not think you were old enough to have taught my mother."
"I am sixty, dear, and I have kept this school for thirty years. Your
mother was not the only pupil who sent her children to be taught by me
when the time came. Now, you can sit on this stool by the fire and tell
me about your home. Your mother--ah, poor child, you would rather not
talk about her just yet. Helen's daughter must have strong feelings--
ah, yes; I see, I see. Another time, darling, when you know me better.
Now tell me about your little sister, and your father. You do not know,
perhaps, that I am Nan's godmother?"
After this the head-mistress and the new pupil had a long conversation.
Hester forgot her shyness; her whole heart had gone out instantly to
this beautiful woman who had known, and loved, and taught her mother.
"I will try to be good at school," she said at last; "but, oh, please,
Mrs Willis, it does not seem to me to-night as if school-life could be
happy."
"It has its trials, Hester; but the brave and the noble girls often find
this time of discipline one of the best in their lives--good at the
time, very good to look back on by-and-by. You will find a miniature
world around you; you will be surrounded by temptations; and you will
have rare chances of proving whether your character can be strong and
great and true. I think, as a rule, my girls are happy, and as a rule
they turn out well. The great motto of life here, Hester, is
earnestness. We are earnest in our work, we are earnest in our play. A
half-hearted girl has no chance at Lavender House. In play-time, laugh
with the merriest, my child: in school-hours, study with the most
studious. Do you understand me?"
"I try to, a little," said Hester, "but it seems all very strange just
now."
"No doubt it does, and at first you will have to encounter many
perplexities and to fight many battles. Never mind, if you have the
right spirit within you, you will come out on the winning side. Now,
tell me, have you made any acquaintances as yet among the girls?"
"Yes--Cecil Temple has been kind to me."
"Cecil is one of my dearest pupils; cultivate her friendship, Hester--
she is honourable, she is sympathising. I am not afraid to say that
Cecil has a great heart."
"There is another girl," continued Hester, "who has spoken to me. I
need not make her my friend, need I?"
"Who is she, dear?"
"Miss Forest--I don't like her."
"What! our school favourite. You will change your mind, I expect--but
that is the gong for prayers. You shall come with me to chapel,
to-night, and I will introduce you to Mr Everard."