"Tea, of course, that is what I wish. In the world, no one will be frank; each person will disguise his or her true feelings; but at school one expects frankness. So say what you like." "Well," said Cara, "we do not want to give up our own parts, and, next to Nora, you are the fairest girl in the school. In fact, all the others are mediocre, except the dark ones." "I am very dark," said Mary, "and the part allotted to me is that of Jephtha's daughter." "Who will be Fair Rosamond?" suddenly asked Penelope. "Oh, we've got a girl for her--Annie Leicester. She is nothing remarkable, but can be done up for the occasion. But, you see, Helen comes first of all the fair women, and the lines about her are far more beautiful than about anybody else. Special pains must be taken with regard to her entrance on the scene. You will do all right: I don't pretend that you will be as good as Honora, but as she refuses--if you only would consent--" "You want this very much, indeed," said Penelope, her eyes sparkling once again with that queer, by no means pleasant, light in them. "You will consent," said Mary. "We have to let Mrs Hazlitt know within twenty-four hours, and the sooner she is acquainted with the fact that we have found a Helen of Troy, the better." "Oh, I can't consent all in a hurry," replied Penelope. "I must take the night to think it over. This is exceedingly important to both of you--that I can see--and I have few, very few, chances. I must make the most of all that come in my way. I think I know just what you want. Good-night, girls." She went slowly back into the house. Mary and Cara looked at each other. "Do I like her?" said Cara, suddenly. Mary gave a laugh. "I detest her," she said. "I never could understand why she came amongst us. Honora Beverley has her cranks, but she is aboveboard, and honest to the core. I don't believe this girl is honest--I mean, I don't think, in her heart of hearts, she would mind a dishonourable action. From the very first she has been different from the rest of us: I often wish she had never come to the school." "Why so?" asked Cara. "She doesn't interfere with you." "But she interferes with Molly, my younger sister. Molly is devoted to her--most of the fourteen-year-old girls are. I can't imagine why a woman like Mrs Hazlitt should have such a girl in the school." Cara laughed. "We can't fathom Mrs Hazlitt," she remarked. "Of course, we love her, every one does; and there isn't such a school as ours in the length and breadth of England. Everything that is necessary for a girl's education is attended to, and yet there is no pressure, no over-study, no strain on the nerves. A girl who leaves Hazlitt Chase and goes into society, or to Newnham, or Girton, is equally well-fitted for the career which lies before her." "Well, come in now," said Mary, sleepily. "I am dead tired. I only hope that ugly Penelope will take the part of Helen of Troy." CHAPTER THREE.