"No--I won't, Fanchon." "But why not--why won't you?" "You are so dreadfully silly about it--you show it to people--oh, not by talking, but you shove out your hand and arm in such a hideously marked fashion. If you were modest, and like a girl accustomed to get jewellery, you would think nothing about it, and then no one would remark it. As it is, that precious Mr Burbery spoke of it. Then Mrs Dawson was attracted by it." "But where's the good of wearing it, if no one is to see it?" queried the practical Fanchon. "Oh, I don't know," said Brenda, crossly; "but I can assure you it is exceedingly bad form to intrude it in the way you do. You look, when you have it on, as though you were all bangle--it's absurd!" "Well, all the same, I do wish you would let me put it on," said Fanchon. "I can slip it up under my sleeve, then no one will notice and it does support me so tremendously when I am undergoing the ordeal of talking to a man." "No--you shan't have it to-night," said Brenda, and there was a finality in her tone which Fanchon recognised and did not attempt to dispute. Supper that evening was of course extra delicious. The ladies were in raptures. The salad, made in the truly French style, was most appetising. There were certain most "chic" little sandwiches handed round to eat with it. Mademoiselle would not give away the secret of how those sandwiches were made. There were iced drinks to refresh the unfortunate inmates of Mrs Dawson's fearfully hot dining-room. There was a fragrance about the supper which astonished and delighted these poor ladies. Mrs Simpkins very nearly shed tears. "After the battle I've had all the afternoon with those dear, darling, dreadful children," she said, "it's fairly like heaven to come down here." Her raptures grew still greater as she partook of the savoury omelets, and by-and-by ate some of that _souffle_ which most certainly Mary Anne could never have compounded. But the crowning dish at that supper table was the preparation of crab to which Mademoiselle gave some long French, absolutely unpronounceable name, and which all the ladies consumed with immense satisfaction. Mrs Dawson was so struck with the success of her supper, and also with the pleasing knowledge that the ingredients which composed it had cost hardly anything, that she began to entertain serious thoughts of taking Mademoiselle into partnership on the spot. With such a woman to help her with her daily _menage_, what might she not aspire to? Another house, a higher class of boarders, double and even treble profits. Then Mademoiselle was so nice to look at--although ugly, yes, quite ugly--and so charmingly witty, but so modest withal, never attempting to take the lead, listening deferentially even to the most minute details with regard to Georgie's cold, and to Miss Price's pain in her head, and yet guiding the conversation ever and always into channels which caused ripples of laughter and perfect good humour.