Then there had been the Italian music-masters, and the French teachers, very devoted, never missing a lesson, but also never missing Mrs.Simcoe, who presided over all instruction which was imparted by any Mentor under sixty.
But when Hope grew older still and found Byron upon the shelves of the Library, his romantic sadness responded to the vague longing of her heart.

Instinctively she avoided all that repels a woman in his verses, as she would have avoided the unsound parts of a fruit.

But the solitary, secluded girl lived unconsciously and inevitably in a dream world, for she had no knowledge of any other, nor contact with it.

Proud and shy, her heart was restless, her imagination morbid, and she believed in heroes.
When Dr.Peewee had told Mr.Burt all that he knew about the project of the school, Mr.Burt rang the bell violently.
"Send Miss Hope to me." The servant disappeared, and in a few moments Hope Wayne entered the room.

To Dr.Peewee's eyes she seemed wrapped only in a cloud of delicate muslin, and the wind had evidently been playing with her golden hair, for she had been lying upon the lawn reading Byron.
"Did you want me, grandfather ?" "Yes, my dear.