"It's this waiting that knocks the spirit out of me.
Patience isn't my pet virtue.

I call it cruelty to animals to leave us on tenter-hooks." Almost as if in answer to her pathetic appeal the door opened, and a teacher appeared.

In a brisk, business-like manner she marshaled the candidates into line, and conducted them to the door of the head-mistress' study, where one by one they were admitted for a brief private interview.

Winona's turn came about the middle of the row.
"Pass in: as quickly as you can, please!" commanded the teacher, motioning her onward.
As Winona entered, she gave one hasty comprehensive glance round the room, taking in a general impression of books, busts and pictures, then focussed her attention on the figure that sat at the desk.

It was only at a later date that she grasped any details of Miss Bishop's personality; at that first meeting she realized nothing but the pair of compelling blue eyes that drew her forward like a magnet.
"Your name ?" "Winona Woodward." "Age ?" "Fifteen." "Residence ?" "Highfield, Ashbourne, near Great Marston." "How long have you lived in the county of Rytonshire ?" "Ever since I was born." Miss Bishop hastily ticked off these replies on a page of her ledger, and handed Winona a card.
"This will admit you to the examination room.