"It really doesn't much matter what it is you wear for Chartcote," said May Dashwood slowly, as her eye roamed over the bed. She did not appear to have heard Gwen's last remark. "People do dress so funnily here," said Gwen, beginning to feel happy again, "but I thought perhaps that----" "I think I should recommend that dark brown silk," said Mrs. Dashwood, "and if you have a black hat----" "Yes, I have!" cried Gwen, with animation, and she rushed to the wardrobe. After all she did like Mrs. Dashwood. She was not so bad after all. May received the black hat into her hands and praised it. She put it on the girl's head and then stood back to see the effect. Gwen stood smiling, her face and dark hair framed by the black velvet. "The very thing," said Mrs. Dashwood. "Do try it on. You'd look lovely in it," gushed Gwen. The expression "You'd look lovely in it" came from her lips before she could stop it. Her instinctive antagonism to Mrs. Dashwood was fast oozing away. May took the hat and put it on her own head, and then she looked round at the mirror. "There!" said Gwen. "I told you so!" May Dashwood regarded herself critically in the mirror and no smile came to her lips. She looked at her tall slender figure and the auburn hair under the black velvet brim as if she was looking at somebody else. May took off the hat and placed it on the bed by the dark brown silk. "Now, you're complete," she said. "Quite complete;" but she looked out of her grey eyes at something far away, and did not see Gwendolen. "If only I had a nice fur!" exclaimed the girl. "Mine is old, and it's the wrong shape, of course," she went on confidentially. She found herself suddenly desirous of making a life-long friend of Mrs. Dashwood. In spite of her age and the fact that she was very clever and all that, and that the Warden had begun by taking too much notice of her, Mrs. Dashwood was nice. Gwen wanted at that moment to "tell her everything," all about the "proposal," and see what she thought about it! Gwen's emotions came and went in little spurts, and they were very absorbing for the moment. "Don't be ashamed of yours," said Mrs. Dashwood, and as she spoke she went towards the door. "I can't say I admire the sisterhood of women who spend their pence on sham or their guineas on real fur and jewellery just now." Gwen stared. She was not quite sure what the remark really meant--the word "sisterhood" confused her. "If I were you," said Mrs. Dashwood, smiling, "I should begin to dress; we are to be ready at one punctually." "Oh, thanks so much," said Gwen. "I know I take an age. I always do," she laughed.