armony with the landscape: walls, dormers, and mullions
and long undulating roofs were all of limestone and conveyed an
impression of sturdy self-respect. The rain-worn, lichen-covered roofs
had weathered to charming irregularities of form and lovely tones of
color. Ivy and clematis climbed over the porches and twisted themselves
round the low chimneys. The little gardens were bright with daffodils,
mezereon, and flowering currant.

To the girls, somewhat tired and decidedly hungry, the main focus of the
village was a long iron post which stretched out over the street and
supported a rudely-painted sign of a bird, whose species might have been
a puzzle to an ornithologist but for the words "Pelican Inn" that
appeared beneath it.

In the long-ago days before railroads, the little hostelry had been a
stopping-place for stage-coaches, and a wooden board still set forth
that it supplied "Posting in all its branches." The landlord would no
doubt have been much dismayed if any wag had entered and demanded a
chaise and post-horses to drive to Gretna Green, and a shabby motor in
his stable-yard showed that he marched with the times.

Miss Strong, on consulting her watch, decided that her party might
safely indulge in a halt of half an hour, and ordered tea for nine
persons. The inn, built on a type common in the district, was entered by
an archway leading straight into a courtyard. A door on the right led to
the bar, and a door on the left to the coffee-room. To this latter more
aristocratic quarter Miss Strong conducted her pupils. Some of them had
never before been in a small village hostelry, and were much amused at
the quaint old parlor with its sporting prints, its glass cases of
stuffed squirrels and badgers, and its horsehair-seated chairs with
crochet antimacassars hung over the backs. The atmosphere was certainly
rather redolent of stale beer and tobacco, but a bunch of crimson
wall-flowers on the table did their best to spread a pleasant perfume.
The tea, when, after much delay, it arrived, was delicious. The Pelican
was a farm as well as an inn, and the rosy-faced servant girl carried in
cream, fresh butter, and red-currant jam to the coffee-room. She
apologized for the absence of cake, but it was an omission that nobody
minded. Upland air gives good appetites, and, though Miss Strong
reminded her flock that this was only a meal by the way, and that supper
was ordered for them at Dropwick, they set to work as if th