Jane sighed a little, and let her wavy brown hair fall in two smooth strands on either side of her small pale face. The Deanery was full of strange standards and codes and values, alien and unintelligible. Jane didn’t know even what they were, though Eileen and Arnold, living in a less rarefied, more in-the-world atmosphere, could have enlightened her about many of them. It mattered in the Deanery what one’s father was; quite kindly but quite definitely note was taken of that; Mrs. Oliver valued birth and breeding, though she was not snobbish, and was quite prepared to be kind and friendly to those without it. Also it mattered how one dressed; whether one had on usual, tidy, and sufficiently expensive clothes; whether, in fact, one displayed good taste in the matter, and was neither cheap nor showy, but suitable to the hour and occasion. These things do matter, it is very certain. Also it mattered that one should be able to find one’s way about a Church of England Prayer Book during a service, a task at which Jane and Eileen were both incompetent. Jane had not been brought up to follow services in a book, only to sit in college ante-chapels and listen to anthems; and Eileen, reared by an increasingly anti-clerical father, had drifted fitfully in and out of Roman Catholic churches as a child in Ireland, and had since never attended any. Consequently they had helplessly fumbled with their books at evening service. Arnold, who had received the sound Church education (sublimely independent of personal fancies as to belief or disbelief) of our English male youth at school and college, knew all about it, and showed Jane how to find the Psalms, while Eddy performed the same office for Eileen. Daphne looked on with cynical amusement, and Mrs. Oliver with genuine shocked feeling. “Anyhow,” said Daphne to her mother afterwards, “I should think they’ll agree with father that it wants revising.” Next day they all went tobogganing, and met the Bellairs family. Eddy threw Molly and Eileen together, because he wanted them to make friends, which Daphne resented, because she wanted to talk to Molly herself, and Eileen made her feel shy. When she was alone with Molly she said, “What do you think of Eddy’s friends?” “Mrs. Le Moine is very charming,” said Molly, an appreciative person. “She’s so awfully pretty, isn’t she? And Miss Dawn seems rather sweet, and Mr. Denison’s very clever, I should think.” Daphne sniffed. “He thinks so, too. I expect they all think they’re jolly clever. But those two”--she indicated Eileen and Jane--“can’t find their places in their Prayer Books without being shown. I don’t call that very clever.” “How funny,” said Molly.