"Why do you call her Miss Ward?" returned Althea, playfully. "It is far too stiff a name for her. Follow my example and call her Waveney." But Doreen looked a little dubious at this. She was a kind-hearted woman, but an undemonstrative one, and her sister's pretty speeches and little caressing ways often filled her with envy. Dinner that evening was rather hurried, and the moment it was over Althea took up a light wrap and invited Waveney to accompany her to the Porch House. The girls had finished their tea, and were now arranging the room for their reading. Althea paused doubtfully on the threshold as she heard the commotion. "We are a little early," she said; "and they never like me to find them in confusion. I will show you the kitchen, Waveney. Is this not a nice little place? And that room beyond is where the girls wash their hands and brush their hair. There is a store-room, too, where I keep my jams and cake." A pale-faced young widow was washing up the tea-cups as they entered. She brightened up as Althea addressed her. "That is my caretaker, Mrs. Shaw," observed Althea, in a low voice. "Come, they are fairly quiet now, and we may as well go in, as Mr. Chaytor is generally punctual." Waveney felt a little shy as she followed Althea. The great room seemed full of girls. There were thirty or forty of them, but Althea shook hands with every one, and had a pleasant word for each. "This is my friend, Miss Ward," she said, in her clear voice, to the assembled girls. "Nora," singling out a tall girl, with an interesting face, "I am going to ask you to teach Miss Ward to play tennis. The asphalt court behind the Porch House will soon be ready. Thanks to the early closing movement, some of you will be able to have a game before it gets dark." "Yes, indeed, Miss Harford." "And we can practise our skating, too," interposed a pretty, dark girl. Waveney found out afterwards that it was Minnie Alston, and that she and Nora were great chums. "That will be charming," returned Althea. She looked more like Queen Bess than ever, as she stood in the circle of girls, with the light shining on her ruddy hair and soft ruffles. "Now, girls, we must take our places;" and then she beckoned Waveney to a long, high-backed settle that stood by the fire. The room was large, and a little cold, so a fire had been lighted. Waveney looked round with intense interest. The Recreation Hall, as it was called, was of noble dimensions, and evidently well-lighted, from the number of windows. There was a platform at one end, with a piano; and two or three easels and half a dozen round tables, with gay, crimson cloths, occupied the centre of the room. These were at once surrounded by groups of girls, some with books in their hands. The floor was stained, and some warm-coloured rugs gave an air of comfort. A well-filled book-case, a few well-chosen prints, and a carved oak chair known as "Miss Harford's throne," comprised the remainder of the furniture.