The next morning at an early hour Florence bade her mother good-bye and started back for Cherry Court School.  It was very luxurious to lie back on the soft padded cushions of the first-class carriage and gaze around her, and sometimes start up and look at her own image in the glass opposite.  She could not help seeing that she looked much nicer in her white sailor hat, her pretty white gloves, and well-fitting dark blue serge than she had looked when she went to Dawlish one week ago. And that trunk in the luggage-van kept returning to her memory again and again, and in her purse were ten shillings, and in her mother's purse were three pounds, for the difference between the third-class and the first-class fares had been paid, and Florence, after keeping ten shillings for immediate expenses, could still hand her mother three pounds.