A wave of astonished colour swept over Penelope Carlton's cheeks. She had been seated, but now she rose. She walked restlessly towards the window. There was within her breast undeveloped, but very strong, ambition. She saw herself quite truly, for she was not the sort of girl to be self-deceived. But she had always hoped that her opportunity might come. She had always known that she possessed possibilities. She was young; she was clever. That she was born plain, she admitted with scathing frankness. She called herself hideous and took little pains with her appearance. She hoped that her brain, however, might bring her laurels. She was strong, and young, and certainly clever. Against these advantages lay the disadvantages of extreme poverty, absolute friendlessness, and of a very plain face. There is, perhaps, no plainer woman than a very fair woman when she is plain, for she seems to have nothing to relieve the insipidity of her appearance. This was Penelope's case. But now, all of a sudden, a chance was given to her. She--Helen of Troy! It would be taking her out of her place. She would not be able to do the part at all. Nevertheless, there was such a thing as a make-up, and that could be employed in her behalf. She looked eagerly at the three girls and said, in a low voice: "Do send Deborah to the children: I will play with them another night; and tell her to take them some chocolates from the school store and to give them my love, and let us go into the garden." It took but a few minutes to fulfil all these requests, and Penelope, Mary, and Cara were soon pacing up and down on the front lawn. Other girls were also walking about in groups. The one subject of conversation was Tennyson's "Dream of Fair Women." It was so interesting, so beautiful, so suited to the school. It seemed so ridiculous and unreasonable of the one girl who could be Helen of Troy not to take the part. "Well," said Mary, eagerly, to her companion--"will you, or will you not?" "But I am so ugly," began Penelope. "Yes--there is no doubt of it, you are very plain," said Cara. "Poor and ugly," quoted Penelope, half under her breath. "What possible chance have I? Then I am not even tall; I am just fair--that is all." "Your height can be magnified by your coming a little more forward," said Cara, "and, of course, Mrs Hazlitt manages the dresses. Yours will be severity itself, and it won't matter whether you have a good figure or not. Oh, surely you can do it; you have got the main characteristic--great fairness." Penelope laughed. "`A daughter of the gods'!" she quoted. The other girls also laughed. "Why do you want me to do this thing?" said Penelope, glancing around. "You have never taken any special notice of me until now. Why are you, all of a sudden, so--so--civil? I don't understand." "We had best be frank," said Cara.