The Princess of the School

On a certain morning, just a week before Christmas, the little world of school atChilcombe Hall was awake and stirring at an unusually early hour. Long before theslightest hint of dawn showed in the sky the lamps were lighted in the corridors, maids were scuttling about, bringing in breakfast, and Jones, the gardener, assistedby his eldest boy, a sturdy grinning urchin of twelve, was beginning the process ofcarrying down piles of hand-bags and hold-alls, and stacking them on a cart whichwas waiting in the drive outside. Miss Walters, dreading the Christmas rush on the railway, had determined to taketime by the forelock, and meant to pack off her pupils by the first available trains, trusting they would most of them reach their destinations before the overcrowdingbecame a serious problem in the traffic. The pupils themselves offered noobjections to this early start. The sooner they reached home and began theholidays, so much the better from their point of view. It was fun to get up by lamplight, when the stars were still shining in the sky; fun to find that rules wererelaxed, and for once they might chatter and talk as they pleased; fun to rununreproved along the passages, sing on the stairs, and twirl one another round inan impromptu dance in the hal