ing in front of the
looking-glasses, careful adjusting of hair ribbons and other trifles of
toilet, before the girls considered themselves in party trim and ready
to do credit to the Villa Camellia. Escorted by Miss Brewster, who acted
chaperon, or "policewoman" as Sheila insisted on calling her, they
walked in orderly file down the eucalyptus avenue to the town, past the
hotel, along the esplanade, and up a steep incline to the Villa Bleue.
The hospitable little parsonage seemed an exact materialization of the
personality of its owners. Canon and Mrs. Clark were both small and
smiling and charitable and particularly kind, and their tiny
unpretentious dwelling, with its sunny aspect and its flowers and its
pet birds, was absolutely in keeping with their tone of mind. From some
houses seem to emanate certain mental atmospheres, as if they reflected
the sum total of the thoughts that have collected there, and sensitive
visitors receive subconscious impressions of chilly magnificence,
intellectual activity or a spirit of general tolerance.

The Villa Bleue always felt radiant with kind and cheery impulses, and
its flower-covered walls seemed almost to shine as the girls, secure of
a welcome, parted from Miss Brewster, and ran up the steps to the
pleasant veranda. Mrs. Clark made them at home at once. She had six cosy
basket-chairs waiting for them, and a plateful of most delicious almond
taffy, and she installed them to sit and admire the view, while she
talked and put them at their ease. Schoolgirls are notoriously bashful
visitors, and in certain circumstances all six would have been mum as
mice and entirely devoid of conversation except a conventional yes or
no, but with dear Mrs. Clark's beaming face and warm-hearted manner to
disarm their shyness they were perfectly natural, and enjoyed themselves
as entirely as if they were at a dormitory tea or a sorority supper. The
best part about Mrs. Clark was that she had the happy knack of
forgetting her age and throwing herself back into the mental environment
of sixteen. She was certainly not a stiff hostess; indeed her treatment
of her guests was less conventional than that adopted by Rachel Moseley
at the prefects' parties; she laughed and chatted and asked questions
about the school, till in a few minutes the girls were chattering like
sparrows and behaving as if they had known her for years.

Tea was set out on little basket tables in the veranda, and there were
all the