"What with her being in plain clothes, and having gone up about a stone in weight," said Tony, "I simply didn't know her at the station. Gracie and I tore down on our bicycles to meet her, and thought of commandeering two orderlies and a stretcher to bring her up from the station. Instead of which she's so much stronger than we are that she pushed both bikes up the hill without turning a hair, while Gracie and I panted in the rear!" "Doesn't she look well?" cried Grace. "I've never seen her look so well--and isn't it becoming?" Everybody laughed. Personal remarks of any but a markedly facetious order were known by the Hostel to be indelicate; but it was generally conceded that Gracie Jones was so nice it didn't matter what she said, since she probably couldn't help being unlike other people. Miss Delmege eyed Miss Plumtree's fair round face and plump figure with approval. "I like that costume," she observed critically. "New, isn't it, dear?" "No, dyed. It's my last year's grey." "You don't mean to say it's turned that sweet saxe? Well, you _have_ done well with it! I must commence seeing about my own winter costume, I suppose. I'd been thinking of mole or nigger." Miss Delmege possessed an almost technical vocabulary of descriptive adjectives which she applied prodigally and exclusively to matters of wardrobe. She proceeded to elaborate her favourite theme, although unable to command a better audience than Grace, since every one else immediately became more absorbed than ever in Miss Plumtree. "Of course, blue's my colour, you know, being fair. Not sky, I don't mean, but royal or navy. But, then, one sees so many of those shades about, and I do like something distinctive." "You should get some patterns." "I have done already. You must help me to choose, Gracie. There's a shade of elephant that I rather liked; it would look nice with my cream blouse, I thought." "Yes, _very_," Grace agreed cordially, and perhaps not without a hope that this would now close the discussion. "Then there's the style." Miss Delmege pursued her reflective way. "I thought of a pleat down the centre, being tall, you see; I always think one must be tall to carry things off. Unless, of course," she added hastily, "one has a really perfect figure, like Miss Vivian." Miss Plumtree turned round. "How _is_ Miss Vivian? Didn't some one tell me she was back at the office? I suppose her father's better." "Very much the same," Miss Delmege told her sadly. "Of course, it's perfectly wonderful of her to--" "Oh," said Miss Marsh maliciously, "if you want news about Plessing, Greengage, you must ask Gracie. She's been out there every day in the car, so as to go through the letters with Miss Vivian." "I say! Really?" "Yes, rather. She had lunch with Miss Vivian's mother nearly every day."