everything, but when he turned
up he played her accompaniments as no one else ever played them.
Moreover, he was a very pleasant companion, and full of fun in a mild
artistic sort of fashion of his own. He was certainly one of the central
figures in the beautiful, shiftless, Bohemian household on the hill.
Lorraine had a sense that, when he went, the Castleton family would lose
its corner stone. Yet some day he would be bound to go.

"I expect to be called up in March!" he announced one day.

[Illustration: "EVERYTHING'S GONE WRONG!" DECLARED LORRAINE TRAGICALLY]

Lorraine looked at him critically. Morland, with his ripply hair and the
features of a Fra Angelico angel, would seem out of place in khaki. His
dreamy, unpunctual ways and general lack of concentration would be
highly exasperating to his drill-sergeant. She wondered what would
happen when, as usual, he turned up late. Artistic temperaments did not
fit in well with the stern realities of life. She had a feeling that
they ought to be exempted.

Music, this term, was more to the fore than usual in Lorraine's horizon.
After Christmas a fresh teacher had come to the school, who gave lessons
in French, violin, and piano. Her name was Madame Bertier, and she was a
Russian by birth, though her husband was a Belgian at present interned
in Germany.

She was a new arrival at Porthkeverne, and had rooms in the artists'
quarter of the town. She spent her mornings at The Gables, and filled up
her afternoons by taking private pupils. Like most Russians, she had a
charming manner, and was brimming over with talent. She was a
striking-looking woman, with a clear, pale complexion, flashing hazel
eyes, and carefully arranged coiffure. Her delicate hands were
exquisitely manicured. She dressed becomingly, and wore handsome rings.
Her foreign accent was decidedly pretty.

Most of the school, and the Sixth Form in particular, went crazy over
her. They admired her frocks, her hair, her earrings, and the whole
charming air of "finish" about her. It became the fashion of the moment
to adore her. Those girls who took private music lessons from her were
counted lucky. The members of the French class vied with one another in
presenting offerings of violets or early snowdrops. She accepted the
little bouquets as gracefully as a prima donna.

"She's _the_ most absolutely topping person I've ever met!" affirmed
Vivien, who was one of her most ardent worshippers.

"Um--well enough!