The girls stood looking up the reach of water towards the hills, and tasting the salt on their lips with supreme gratification.

It was not every school that assembled by such a romantic means of conveyance as an ancient flat-bottomed ferry-boat, and they rejoiced over their privileges.
"I'm glad the tide's full; it makes the crossing so much wider," murmured Helen Cooper, with an eye of admiration on the woods.
"Don't suppose Evan shares your enthusiasm," laughed Marjorie Earnshaw.
"He's paid the same, whatever the length of the journey." "Old Grumps gets half a crown for his job, so he needn't grumble," put in Doris Deane.
"Oh, trust him! He'd look sour at a pound note." "What makes him so cross ?" "Oh, he's old and lame, I suppose, and has a crotchety temper." "Here we are at last!" The boat was grating on the shore.

Griffith was unfastening the movable end, and in another moment the girls were springing out gingerly, one by one, on to the decidedly muddy stepping-stones that formed a rough causeway to the bank.

A cart was waiting to convey the handbags (all boxes had been sent as "advance luggage" two days before), so, disencumbered of their numerous possessions, the girls started to walk the steep uphill mile that led to The Woodlands.
Miss Bowes and Miss Teddington, the partners who owned the school, had been exceptionally fortunate in their choice of a house.

If, as runs the modern theory, beautiful surroundings in our early youth are of the utmost importance in training our perceptions and aiding the growth of our higher selves, then surely nowhere in the British Isles could a more suitable setting have been found for a home of education.