"What a rude thing to ask！ Of course not，" he replied indignantly. "I am very good at Latin and history， which I like. But you see father doesn't care much for them. He was a Wrangler， you know."
"A Wrangler！ How dreadful. I suppose that is why he argues so much in his sermons. I hate history. It's full of dates and the names of kings who were all bad. I can't make out why people put up with kings，" she added reflectively.
"Because they ought to， 'God bless our gracious Queen，' you know."
"Well， God may bless her but I don't see why I should as she never did anything for me， though Father does hope she will make him something one day. I'd like to be a Republican with a President as they have in America."
"You must be what father calls a wicked Radical，" said Godfrey staring at her， "one of those people who want to disestablish the Church."
"I daresay，" she replied， nodding her head. "That is if you mean making clergymen work like other people， instead of spying and gossiping and playing games as they do about here."
Godfrey did not pursue the argument， but remarked immorally：
"It's a pity you don't come to our class， for then I could do your history papers and you could do my sums."
She started， but all she said was：
"This would be a good place to learn history. Now I must be going.
Don't forget to give the note. I shall have to say that I waited a long while before I found anyone. Goodbye， Godfrey."
"Goodbye， Isobel，" he answered， but she was gone.
"I hope he did dream that it was his mother who kissed him，" Isobel reflected to herself， for now the full enormity of her performance came home to her. Young as she was， a mere child with no knowledge of the great animating forces of life and of the mysteries behind them， she wondered why she had done this thing； what it was that forced her to do it. For she knew well that something had forced her， something outside of herself， as she understood herself. It was as though another entity that was in her and yet not herself had taken possession of her and made her act as uninfluenced， she never would have acted. Thus she pondered in her calm fashion， then， being able to make nothing of the business， shrugged her shoulders and let it go by.
After all it mattered nothing since Godfrey had dreamed that the ghost of his mother had visited him and would not suspect her of being that ghost， and she was certain that never would she do such a thing again.
The trouble was that she had done it once and that the deed signified some change in her which her childish mind could not understand.
On reaching the Hall， or rather shortly afterwards， she saw her father who was waiting for the carriage in which to go to the station to meet some particularly important week-end guest. He asked if she had brought any answer to his note to Mr. Knight， and she told him that she had left it in the schoolroom， as she called the refectory， because he was out.
"I hope he will get it，" grumbled Mr. Blake. "One of my friends who is coming down to-night thinks he understands architecture and I want the parson to show him over the Abbey House. Indeed that's why he has come， for you see he is an American who thinks a lot of such old things."
"Well， it is beautiful， isn't it， Father？" she said. "Even I felt that it would be easy to learn in that big old room with a roof like that of a church."
An idea struck him.
"Would you like to go to school there， Isobel？"
"I think so， Father， as I must go to school somewhere and I hate those horrible governesses."
"Well，" he replied， "you couldn't throw inkpots at the holy Knight， as you did at Miss Hook. Lord！ what a rage she was in，" he added with a chuckle. "I had to pay her ā5 for a new dress. But it was better to do that than to risk a County Court action."
Then the carriage came and he departed.
The upshot of it all was that Isobel became another of Mr. Knight's pupils. When Mr. Blake suggested the arrangement to his wife， she raised certain objections， among them that associating with these little lads might make a tomboy of the girl， adding that she had been taught with children of her own sex. He retorted in his rough marital fashion， that if it made something different of Isobel to what she， the mother， was， he would be glad. Indeed， as usual， Lady Jane's opposition settled the matter.
Now for the next few years of Isobel's life there is little to be told. Mr. Knight was an able man and a good teacher， and being a clever girl she learned a great deal from him， especially in the way of mathematics， for which， as has been said， she had a natural leaning.
Indeed very soon she outstripped Godfrey and the other lads in this and sundry other branches of study， sitting at a table by herself on what once had been the dais of the old hall. In the intervals of lessons， however， it was their custom to take walks together and then it was that she always found herself at the side of Godfrey. Indeed they became inseparable， at any rate in mind. A strange and most uncommon intimacy existed between these young creatures， almost might it have been called a friendship of the spirit. Yet， and this was the curious part of it， they were dissimilar in almost everything that goes to make up a human being. Even in childhood there was scarcely a subject on which they thought alike， scarcely a point upon which they would not argue.
