Marveling why her actions should hinder the tennis of the rest of the community, Irene obeyed the message, and presented herself in the room where she had been introduced on her arrival. It was now full of girls of all ages, some sitting, some standing, and some squatting on the floor. Rachel Moseley, the owner of the long dark pigtail, seemed in a position of command, for she motioned Irene to a vacant chair, then rapped on the table with a ruler to ensure silence. She had to tap not once but several times, and finally called: "When you've all done talking I'll begin." There was an instant hush at that, and, though a few faint snickers were heard, most of the audience composed itself decently to listen to the voice of authority. "I've called this meeting," began Rachel, "because to-day an unusual thing has happened. Three new girls have arrived, although the term is well under way. By the rules of our society they must give some account of themselves, and we must explain what is required from them. Will they kindly stand up?" Blushing considerably Irene rose to her feet, in company with the dark-eyed damsel who had crossed in the same steamer with her from Naples, and the fair-haired child whom she had privately christened Little Flaxen. "Name and nationality?" demanded Rachel, pencil and note-book in hand. She wrote down Irene Beverley, British, without further comment; the fact was evidently too obvious for discussion. At "Mabel Hughes, Australian, born in Patagonia," she demurred slightly, and she hesitated altogether at "Desiree Legrand." "_That's_ not English!" she objected. "We don't reckon to take Frenchies here, you know!" "But I'm _not_ French," came the high-pitched voice of the little, fair-haired girl. "I'm as English as anybody. I am _indeed_!" "Then why have you got a French name?" "Legrand isn't French--we come from Jersey." "Very much on the borderland," sniffed Rachel. "What about Desiree? Not much wholesome Anglo-Saxon there at any rate." "I was called Desiree because I was so very much desired. Mother says it just fits me." An indignant titter went round the room and Rachel frowned. "I'm afraid you won't find yourself so much desired here," she said sarcastically. "I'll enter you British, though I have my doubts. Now come along, all three of you, and lay your hands on this book. You've got to take an oath of allegiance. I'll repeat the words, and you must say them after me: "'I hereby promise and vow that being of Anglo-Saxon birth I will uphold the integrity of Great Britain and her colonies and of the United States of America, and strive my utmost to maintain their credit in a foreign land.' Now then, do you understand what your oath means?" Her eyes rested on Irene as she asked the question. That much embarrassed damsel stuttered hesitatingly: "We're not to trouble our heads about learning foreign languages?"