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field on) straight across the cricket-field, and into the next. "Six!" cry the Russellites; but six it shall not be, if I can help it. Laying my legs to the ground with a will, I have cleared the field and leaped the hedge beyond, before he has got one. I go plump into the midst of a stinging-nettle bed—but that is nothing, I espy the ball, and send it home with all my might. And after all he only gets two. He casts an approving glance on me as I return, evidently he is not used to seeing girls jump; if he only knew how thoroughly Jack has grounded me in that doubtful accomplishment!



CHAPTER XV.

"Beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson on thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there."

It is three o'clock on Saturday afternoon, and I am making my toilette preparatory to setting out for the parsonage. I would rather be playing cricket, but Mr. Russell, after giving us a glorious week, has gone away again; however, he is coming back, and the sooner the better, say I. Meanwhile, let me arrange my clean and crackling gown, as gracefully as the inequalities of my form permit, and try and persuade my curly thick hair to lie flat.

"Good-bye, Mary," I say, putting my head in at the class-room door, where she sits illuminating a text, "I'm going now."

I never did care about girls, or want to be great friends with any of them, but I like Mary.

The parsonage is only a few yards away; it is right before my eyes, as I walk along the bit of road that divides it from the school. As I lift the latch of the gate, and go through the old-fashioned, sweet-smelling garden, I give a long sigh of content, it is all so peaceful, so dainty, so still. There is a faint suspicion of magnolia