Miss Jethro's luggage was to be forwarded to the London terminus of the railway--and Miss Jethro herself had baffled investigation by leaving the school on foot.

Emily's interest in the lost teacher was not the transitory interest of curiosity; her father's mysterious friend was a person whom she honestly desired to see again.

Perplexed by the difficulty of finding a means of tracing Miss Jethro, she reached the shady limit of the trees, and turned to walk back again.

Approaching the place at which she and Francine had met, an idea occurred to her.

It was just possible that Miss Jethro might not be unknown to her aunt.
Still meditating on the cold reception that she had encountered, and still feeling the influence which mastered her in spite of herself, Francine interpreted Emily's return as an implied expression of regret.
She advanced with a constrained smile, and spoke first.
"How are the young ladies getting on in the schoolroom ?" she asked, by way of renewing the conversation.
Emily's face assumed a look of surprise which said plainly, Can't you take a hint and leave me to myself?
Francine was constitutionally impenetrable to reproof of this sort; her thick skin was not even tickled.