"Her face is so neat," Mellicent said to herself, and the adjective was not inappropriate, for Peggy's small features looked as though they had been modelled by the hand of a fastidious artist, and the air of dainty finish extended to her hands and feet, and slight graceful figure. The subject came up for discussion on the third evening after Peggy's arrival, when she had been called out of the room to speak to Mrs. Asplin for a few minutes. Esther gazed after her as she walked across the floor with her slow, dignified tread, and when the door was safely closed, she said slowly-- "I don't think Mariquita is as plain now, as I did at first, do you, Oswald?" "N--no! I don't think I do. I should not call her exactly plain. She is a funny, little thing, but there's something nice about her face." "Very nice." "Last night in the pink dress she looked almost pretty." "Y--es!" "Quite pretty!" "Y--es! really quite pretty." "We shall think her lovely in another week," said Mellicent tragically. "Those awful Savilles! They are all alike--there is something Indian about them. Indian people have a lot of secrets that we know nothing about, they use spells, and poisons, and incantations that no English person can understand, and they can charm snakes. I've read about it in books. Arthur and Peggy were born in India, and it's my opinion that they are bewitched. Perhaps the ayahs did it when they were in their cradles. I don't say it is their own fault, but they are not like other people, and they use their charms on us, as there are no snakes in England. Look at Arthur! He was the naughtiest boy, always hurting himself, and spilling things, and getting into trouble, and yet everyone in the house bowed down before him and did what he wanted. Now mark my word, Peggy will be the same!" Mellicent's companions were not in the habit of "marking her words," but on this occasion they looked thoughtful, for there was no denying that they were always more or less under the spell of the remorseless stranger. On the afternoon of the fourth day Miss Peggy came down to tea with her pig-tail smoother and more glossy than ever, and the light of war shining in her eyes. She drew her chair to the table and looked blandly at each of her companions in turn.