“Jill, do you know where my green check blouse has gone? I can’t find it anywhere.”  
“How should I know? I haven’t taken it—wouldn’t be seen in the old thing! Why are you worrying if it has disappeared? I thought you said the other day that it was too shabby to wear any more?”
 
“So I did, but I want the buttons to put on a new blouse. It was hanging up in my cupboard last week.”
 
“I expect it’s there still, only you can’t see it because it’s hidden away behind your dresses. What is far more important is my umbrella. Somebody has eaten it, I believe—it’s simply gone!”
 
“You have left it at school again. You are always losing your umbrellas.”
 
“People steal them, I suppose, because they are so beautiful! Alpaca—three and eleven! Mother says it’s no use giving me a silk because I’m not careful. That’s bad reasoning! I should be careful if I had a silk. But it’s not my fault this time. I know I brought it home, because there was an apple inside it which Norah gave me in prep. I ate it last night, and this morning the brolley has vanished. It’s hard lines, for I shall get a rowing if it doesn’t turn up, and it isn’t my fault a bit.”
 
“Oh, I expect you’ll find it all right. It’s so , because the buttons exactly match this blouse, and I want it for Saturday,” returned Betty, too much absorbed in her own affairs to have any sympathy to spare for Jill’s loss. All the week long she lived in the thought of Saturday, and when at long last the day arrived she could hardly wait until three o’clock, so anxious was she to be at her post.
 
Mrs Vanburgh came to meet her at the door of the dining-room, looking flushed and excited.
 
“Come in here!” she said. “We are beginning to set out the table, so you are just in time. I want to have everything ready by the half-hour.”
 
“Who are ‘we,’ I wonder?” was Betty’s mental question as she crossed the threshold, and the next moment brought with it a shock of surprise, for, in the middle of the room, her hair shining like an aureola round her head, stood no less a person than the Pet herself. A plate of cakes was held in one hand, and a plate of bread-and-butter in the other, and she stood stock still, staring at the new-comer, as much surprised to recognise Betty as Betty was to recognise herself.
 
“This is my friend Cynthia Alliot; this is my friend Betty Trevor!” cried Mrs Vanburgh, introducing the two girls with an easy wave of the hand. “She can’t shake hands, poor dear, so you’ll have to take the will for the deed. Where shall we put those plates? There doesn’t seem much room left.”
 
There did not, indeed! Betty stared in at the noble feast which had been provided for the expected guests. The dining-table was decorated with flowers, which looked especially beautiful at this dull, wintry season. Dishes of cold , ham, and tongue, were flanked by every imaginable description of cakes, both small and large. Different sorts of jam were dotted here and there among the larger dishes; tea and coffee cups were ranged at the farther end. It was, in fact, a North Country high-tea of the most complete and description.
 
“Light are to be served in the drawing-room. This is for those who can stay on for several hours. My husband is going to dine at his club, so we can keep the dear things as long as they are happy,” said Nan with a , while the two girls smiled at each other with shy .
 
“Now I shall get to know them! Now they may get to like me, and ask me to sit with them in their schoolroom,” thought lonely Cynthia .
 
“The Pet herself! She is pretty! Miles would admire her more than ever; and oh, what a blouse, and I thought mine was quite nice!” sighed Betty .
 
Both Mrs Vanburgh and her friend were very simply , but with a dainty finish and from which Betty’s home-made garment was very far removed. She felt plain and beside them, and her spirits suffered in consequence. Superior people may despise her for so doing, but they don’t understand how a girl feels, so their opinion is not worth having. At seventeen it takes real grace to be a Cinderella, and poor Betty did not at all enjoy the position.
 
It was difficult, however, for any companions of Nan Vanburgh to be for long together, so bright was she, so radiant, so brisk, friendly, and . The girls were sent flying hither and until all the preparations were finished, then—
 
“Let’s go out into the hall, and pretend to be governesses, and walk in again, to see how the effect strikes us,” she cried; and out they rushed, like a trio of merry schoolgirls, drawing their faces into expressions of abnormal gravity, to march back again solemn and slow.
 
“Pray be seated. You must be after your long walk. To what can I assist you?”
 
“The breast of a , please, and a portion of ham; a cup of tea and a few hot muffins— Goodness me, are you going to talk to the poor creatures like that? They will be !” replied Cynthia, all in a breath. She was not at all proper, Betty was glad to see, but as full of fun as an ordinary commonplace girl. “What are you going to talk to them about?” she demanded of her hostess, who shook her head in somewhat helpless fashion, and replied—
 
“I don’t know! I’m hoping for inspiration at the last moment, and eating is a grand resource! them well with muffins till the ice is broken—”
 
At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the sound of an electric bell, upon hearing which Mrs Vanburgh uttered a sharp of dismay, and rushed for the hall. Her two assistants followed, but even they in their schoolgirl stage could not keep up with the pace at which she flew up the staircase. Her feet seemed hardly to touch the ground; she sprang up two steps at a time, crying continuously, “Quick, quick!” until, just as the head of the staircase was reached, cr–r–r–ur! Came the sounds of ripping seams, and a long of silk flounce showed her skirt.
 
“Just my luck!” she cried . “It never seems as if I could get upstairs like anyone else. Now they’ll think I’m an untidy , and it will all be spoiled. What’s the use of silk flounces anyway? I’ll never have another—I I won’t! There! I’ll pin it up with a brooch till they’ve gone. We must be in the drawing-room ready to receive. Cynthia, sit over there, and pretend to be reading. Miss Trevor, you might be the fire. Whatever we do, we mustn’t alarm the poor dears by looking formal.”
 
“I am a great deal more alarmed of the poor dears than they will be of me! My sister Jill pretended to swoon at the idea of a room full of governesses. She said it was more like a nightmare than a piece of real life.”
 
“Hush!” whispered Mrs Vanburgh . “They come!” for footsteps were heard the staircase, and the assistants flew to their posts, while the hostess endeavoured to hum a in a light and manner.
 
Another moment and the door was thrown open to disclose—a servant, bearing a note upon a silver salver. It was not a governess after all!
 
The two girls came forward into the room, divided between relief and disappointment.
 
Mrs Vanburgh tossed the note impatiently aside, and said resignedly—
 
“Ah, well, it gives us all the longer to prepare! I’ll run into my room and mend this horrid dress, and you might arrange these books of photographs. They are really interesting, and of almost every country you can imagine. Old Mr Vanburgh collected them on his travels, so you have only to find out which country interests your special governess most, and—there you are! It will save no end of !”
 
She ran out of the room, and the two girls stood together, seized with a sudden shyness at finding themselves alone.
 
“I—I think we know each other very well by sight,” said Cynthia, and Betty blushed and blinked, remembering the crowded schoolroom window and her own criticisms.
 
“Yes—I’m afraid we have stared a great deal. We are so interested in our neighbours, but they are almost all old—you were the only young one like ourselves. We were frightfully anxious to know all about you.”
 
Cynthia gave a pathetic little sigh.
 
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