The two delegates started at once on their diplomatic mission. They felt indeed that there was no time to be lost. They found several of the prefects collected in Rachel's bedroom, where possibly they were having a little private candy party, for there were sounds of a rustling of paper and a shutting of drawers before they were granted permission to enter the precincts. The Transition girls always envied the seniors' rooms. These were on the seaward side of the house, and their balcony had glorious views over the bay and the surrounding coast. The decorations were very tasteful. The walls were gray, with a stenciled frieze of hydrangeas, and there were soft-shaded Indian rugs on the polished wood floor. Rachel and her roommates had provided their own luxuries in the way of pretty cushions, table-covers, pictures, and flower-vases, and the general effect was of harmonious comfort. "Well? What can I do for you?" inquired the head girl briefly, as Stella admitted the diplomats. It was not a very encouraging reception. Possibly the prefects were annoyed at being disturbed in the midst of what they were doing. Peachy, however, ignored Rachel's tone, and putting on her most winning smile inquired: "We wonder if you're painting any program covers for the carnival?" Rachel lolled back in her chair and retied the bow that terminated her long dark pigtail. "Perhaps we are and perhaps we aren't," was her somewhat cryptic reply. "The matter's in our hands entirely, of course," cooed Sybil, rocking to and fro on a cane _sedia_. "I know," put in Irene, trying to be tactful. "We only thought that perhaps you might care to have a little help. Some of us would be ready to paint a few if you like." This put a different complexion on the case. The seniors, always bristling for their privileges, resented idle curiosity--on the part of the Transition. But an offer of help was another matter. "There certainly is a great number to be done," said Erica, with a beseeching look at Rachel. The head girl thawed a little. "Well, we shouldn't mind your taking a few off our hands," she conceded. "Half a dozen? Sybil, will you get those programs out of my drawer? Put anything you like on them--flowers, birds, figures, or landscapes. I'll lend you this to copy the printing from. Let me have them by Thursday if you can." Rachel glanced meaningly at the door, as if she considered the interview might now with decency come to an end. Neither Peachy nor Irene took the hint, however. The main object of their mission had not yet been broached. "You've not written the program inside yet," commented Peachy, opening one of the covers. "We'll do that later." "Shall we copy some for you?" "Oh, no, thanks!" Then Irene, growing desperate, blurted out what they had really come to say. "The Transition stunt is to be in two parts this time. Bertha and Mabel are arranging one, and Peachy is getting up another. Do you mind putting ours down to come first?"