with prizes for
the best costumes. They'd love that, anyhow. I'll call a meeting in the
gym and put it to them. I believe it will catch on."

The pupils at the Villa Camellia were not overdone with public meetings.
They responded therefore with alacrity to the notice which Rachel, after
obtaining the necessary permission from the authorities, pinned upon the
board in the hall. They were all a little curious to know what she
wanted to talk to them about. A few anticipated a scolding, but the
majority expected some more pleasant announcement.

"Rachel's wrought up, but she doesn't look like jawing us," was the
verdict of Peachy, who had passed the head prefect in the corridor. Some
of the seniors constituted themselves stewards and arranged the audience
to their satisfaction, with juniors on the front benches and the
Transition behind. When everybody was seated, Rachel stepped on to the
platform and rang the bell for silence. Her cheeks were pink with
excitement and there was a little thrill of nervousness in her voice, as
if she were forcing herself to a supreme effort, but this passed as she
warmed to her subject.

"Girls," she began, "I asked you to come here because I want to have a
talk with you about our school life. You'll all agree with me that we
love the Villa Camellia. It's a unique school. I don't suppose there's
another exactly like it in the whole world. Why it's so peculiar is that
we're a set of Anglo-Saxon girls in the midst of a foreign-speaking
country. We ourselves are collected from different continents--some are
Americans, some English, some from Australia, or New Zealand, or South
Africa--but we all talk the same Anglo-Saxon tongue, and we're bound
together by the same race traditions. Large schools in England or
America take a great pride in their foundation, and they play other
schools at games and record their victories. We can't do that here,
because there are no foreign teams worth challenging, so we've always
had to be our own rivals and have form matches. In a way, it hasn't been
altogether good for us. We've got into the bad habit of thinking of the
school in sections, instead of as one united whole. I've even heard
squabbles among you as to whether California or Cape Colony or New South
Wales are the most go-ahead places to live in. Now, instead of
scrapping, we ought to be glad to join hands. If you think of it, it's a
tremendous advantage to grow up among Anglo-Saxon girls from other