en obliged to buy new gloves, and to have her boots
mended. A new umbrella had been torn by the carelessness with which
another teacher had thrust her own into the crowded stand, and one night
she had been seized with a longing for a dainty well-cooked meal, and
had recklessly stood treat at a restaurant. She did not feel at all
"rich" as she made up the week's account, and reflected that next week
the expense of driving to Mrs Willoughby's "At Home" would again swell
up the total of these exasperating "extras" which made such havoc of
advance calculations.

Cecil did not appear until lunch was on the table, when she flung the
door wide open and marched in with an air of bravado, as if wanting her
companion to stare at once and get over it. It would have been
impossible not to stare, for the change in her appearance was positively
startling to behold. Her dark hair was waved and fashionably coiffed.
Her best coat and skirt had been embellished with frills of lace at neck
and sleeves, a pretty little waistcoat had been manufactured out of a
length of blue ribbon and a few paste buttons, while a blue feather
necklet had been promoted a step higher, and encircled an old straw hat.
The ribbon bow at the end of the boa exactly matched the shade of the
waistcoat, and was cocked up at a daring angle, while a becoming new
veil and a pair of immaculate new gloves added still further to the
effect.

Claire had always suspected that Cecil could be pretty if she chose to
take the trouble, and now she knew it for a fact. It was difficult to
realise that this well-groomed-looking girl, with the bright eyes and
softly-flushed cheeks, could really be the same person as the frumpy-
looking individual who every morning hurried along the street.

Involuntarily Claire threw up her hands; involuntarily she cried aloud
in delight "Cheers! Cheers! How do you do, Cecil? Welcome home,
Cecil!--the real Cecil! How pretty you are, Cecil! How well that blue
suits you! Don't dare to go back to your dull navy and black. I shall
insist that you always wear blue. I feel quite proud of having such a
fine lady to lunch. You are going to have lunch, aren't you? Why those
gloves and veil?"

"Oh, well--I'm not hungry. I'll have some coffee. I may have lunch in
town." Cecil was plainly embarrassed under her companion's scrutiny.
She pushed up her veil, so that it rested in a little ridge across her
nose, craned forward her head, sipping