From the Abbey the sightseers drove to the Academy, where they spent a couple of hours in making their way through the crowded rooms. Mrs Saville and her daughter were unaffectedly interested in the pictures, but Mellicent declared the study of them such a "neck-achey" process that she soon abandoned the effort, and contented herself with criticising the people instead. After living all one's life in provincial parishes where every inhabitant recognised and saluted the vicar's daughter, it was a little bewildering to find oneself surrounded by hundreds of absolutely strange faces; a trifle depressing too, to one-and-twenty, to realise afresh her own countrified appearance, as slim-waisted _elegantes_ floated past in a succession of spring toilettes, each one more fascinating than the last. Mellicent sat down on one of the centre couches and gave herself up to despair. "My sleeves aren't right, and my neck isn't right, and my back isn't right! My skirt sticks out where it should be flat, and is flat where it ought to stick out. My hat looks like the ark, and my gloves are too big. I ought to be superior like Esther, and not care a bit, but I _do_. I care frightfully. I feel a worm, and as it I'd like to crawl away and hide myself out of sight,"--and Mellicent's fair face clouded over with an expression of such hopeless melancholy, that Peggy, catching sight of it, came forward instantly to discover the reason. "Tired?" she cried cheerily. "Never mind, we won't be long now, and then we'll drive home, and you shall be tucked up in bed, and have a comfy rest. Sight-seeing _is_ tiring... Which do you like best?" "The blue, I think, with the lace edgings. The body is so sweet, with all the tiny, lovely little tucks, and the colour would suit my hair," said Mellicent plaintively, all unconscious of the open-eyed wonder with which she was regarded. "What has your hair to do with it, and how _could_ a body be covered with tucks? You are sleepy, dear, and didn't hear what I said. I asked what picture you liked best." "Oh-h, picture! I thought you meant dresses. I was thinking about the dresses--" "Mellicent Asplin, I'm shocked at you! You remind me of the visitor to Paris who was asked how she liked the Louvre, and replied that the Bon Marche was cheaper for ribbons. To think that you could sit opposite some of the finest pictures of the year, and find more enjoyment in looking at frocks." "I haven't enjoyed it at all. I've disenjoyed it horribly. You wouldn't like it yourself, if you saw seven hundred and fifty girls, and each one looked seven hundred times nicer than you did yourself. I detest them all, but I hate the blue one worst! Didn't you see her, Peggy--pale, _pale_ blue, with white lace and--" "Poor old Mill. Come along, dear, we'll go back to the hotel, and not worry about them any more. You shall come straight to my room, and I'll give you a tonic that will do you good."