The “club girls” became very popular. Across the deep hot sand they ploughed, and clattered along the warping boardwalks, in merry pairs and groups, finding the work far more varied and amusing than the endless repetition in one household. They had pleasant evenings too, with plenty of callers, albeit somewhat checked and chilled by rigorous Mrs. James. “It is both foolish and wicked!” said Madam Weatherstone to her daughter-in-law, “Exposing a group of silly girls to such danger and temptations! I understand there is singing and laughing going on at that house until half-past ten at night.” “Yes, there is,” Viva admitted. “Mrs. James insists that they shall all be in bed at eleven--which is very wise. I'm glad they have good times--there's safety in numbers, you know.” “There will be a scandal in this community before long!” said the old lady solemnly. “And it grieves me to think that this household will be responsible for it!” Diantha heard all this from the linen room while Madam Weatherstone buttonholed her daughter-in-law in the hall; and in truth the old lady meant that she should hear what she said. “She's right, I'm afraid!” said Diantha to herself--“there will be a scandal if I'm not mighty careful and this household will be responsible for it!” Even as she spoke she caught Ilda's childish giggle in the lower hall, and looking over the railing saw her airily dusting the big Chinese vases and coquetting with young Mr. Mathew. Later on, Diantha tried seriously to rouse her conscience and her common sense. “Don't you see, child, that it can't do you anything but harm? You can't carry on with a man like that as you can with one of your own friends. He is not to be trusted. One nice girl I had here simply left the place--he annoyed her so.” Ilda was a little sulky. She had been quite a queen in the small Norwegian village she was born in. Young men were young men--and they might even--perhaps! This severe young housekeeper didn't know everything. Maybe she was jealous! So Ilda was rather unconvinced, though apparently submissive, and Diantha kept a careful eye upon her. She saw to it that Ilda's room had a bolt as well as key in the door, and kept the room next to it empty; frequently using it herself, unknown to anyone. “I hate to turn the child off,” she said to herself, conscientiously revolving the matter. “She isn't doing a thing more than most girls do--she's only a little fool. And he's not doing anything I can complain of--yet.” But she worried over it a good deal, and Mrs. Weatherstone noticed it. “Doesn't your pet club house go well, 'Miss Bell?' You seem troubled about something.” “I am,” Diantha admitted. “I believe I'll have to tell you about it--but I hate to. Perhaps if you'll come and look I shan't have to say much.”