“I thought before I ventured too far off by myself I would devote a little time to study, and perhaps you can recommend a teacher, or at least someone who would be willing to give me some hours of conversation each day.” “I am sure my husband can direct you to someone,” Doña Martina assured him, and with that, the meal having been finished, they all left the table. This new acquaintance brought a fresh element into the party. As Doña Martina remarked, “I told you so. Let Patty but appear and a man drops down from the skies; already there are three on the list and I hope she is content.” Paulette looked up from under her light lashes and smiled. She was fond of Patty, but in her heart of hearts she felt that her own attractions were not to be despised. She was a small person, rather chic, and, but for a somewhat large nose and a rough complexion, would have been considered pretty. As it was she made the most of a slim figure and golden locks, which were her chief charms. “Your golden hair, Polly, dear, is your fortune as much as your ducats are,” Patty had one day said to her when they were discussing each other in that perfectly frank way that young girls have. “With that and your very stylish and trig form you are saved from being utterly commonplace. Your eyes are rather small, your mouth nothing remarkable; you have too much nose; your feet are passable in high heels; your hands are positively ugly, but no one observes anything but those golden locks and that you have an air.” “And you, my dear Patty, may not have what you call an air, but cast a glance from those melting brown eyes upon even a _gamin_ in the street and he bows before you. Your nose is impertinent, but it is not, as mine, a feature whose bridge it is difficult to pass over. A _nez retrousée_ is not objectionable, it is in fact desirable with such eyes. A very long nose would give you a visage so melancholy as would make one fancy you a veritable ascetic. Your mouth is a trifle large for your nose, but better that than too small, else your eyes would seem out of proportion. Your figure is not bad, a little thin, but that is a fault which years may improve. I may grow too stout, you will not.” “How honest we are,” Patty returned. “That comes of hearing so much about confessions and the like, here in the convent.” The confessions were not so frequent, once the convent was left behind, for the two girls were now in the world of reality rather than of dreams, and there was too much that was vitally interesting going on about them to admit of vagaries and of such discussions as touched only personal appearance. Each tried to look her best and thoroughly enjoyed the pretty summer outfit which had been a matter of such moment at the time of providing.