Miss Day was a useful ally-- a
dangerous foe.
With a forced laugh, which concealed none of her real feelings, she
stood up and prepared to leave the room.
"You are very witty at my expense, Annie," she said. Her lips
trembled. She found herself the next moment alone in the brightly
lighted corridor.
It was over a week now since the beginning of the term. Lectures were
once more in full swing, and all the inmates of St. Benet's were
trying, each after her kind, for the several prizes which the life
they were leading held out to them. Girls of all kinds were living
under these roofs-- the idle as well as the busy. Both the clever and
the stupid were here, both the good and the bad. Rosalind Merton was a
fairly clever girl. She had that smart sort of cleverness which often
passes for wide knowledge. She was liked by many of her girl friends;
she had the character of being rather good-natured; her pretty face
and innocent manner, too, helped to win her golden opinions among the
lecturers and dons.
Those who knew her well soon detected her want of sincerity, but then
it was Rose's endeavor to prevent many people becoming intimately
acquainted with her. She had all the caution which accompanies a
deceitful character and had little doubt that she could pursue those
pettinesses in which her soul delighted and yet retain a position as a
good, innocent and fairly clever girl before the heads of the college.
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