Has anybody thought of the programs yet?"

"I heard the seniors groaning over having to paint covers for them."

"Well, let's go to them privately and volunteer to help. Then we shall
have the opportunity of telling them that the Transition stunt is to be
in two divisions, and that Part I will be taken by ourselves."

"Quite a brain-throb!"

"Renie, I'm beginning to admire you!"

"Peachy can paint beautifully!"

"So can Joan and Esther. Shall I go and say we offer to do six programs?
Right-o! Come with me, Peachy. You're our champion wheedler."

The two delegates started at once on their diplomatic mission. They
felt indeed that there was no time to be lost. They found several of the
prefects collected in Rachel's bedroom, where possibly they were having
a little private candy party, for there were sounds of a rustling of
paper and a shutting of drawers before they were granted permission to
enter the precincts. The Transition girls always envied the seniors'
rooms. These were on the seaward side of the house, and their balcony
had glorious views over the bay and the surrounding coast. The
decorations were very tasteful. The walls were gray, with a stenciled
frieze of hydrangeas, and there were soft-shaded Indian rugs on the
polished wood floor. Rachel and her roommates had provided their own
luxuries in the way of pretty cushions, table-covers, pictures, and
flower-vases, and the general effect was of harmonious comfort.

"Well? What can I do for you?" inquired the head girl briefly, as Stella
admitted the diplomats.

It was not a very encouraging reception. Possibly the prefects were
annoyed at being disturbed in the midst of what they were doing.

Peachy, however, ignored Rachel's tone, and putting on her most winning
smile inquired:

"We wonder if you're painting any program covers for the carnival?"

Rachel lolled back in her chair and retied the bow that terminated her
long dark pigtail.

"Perhaps we are and perhaps we aren't," was her somewhat cryptic reply.

"The matter's in our hands entirely, of course," cooed Sybil, rocking to
and fro on a cane _sedia_.

"I know," put in Irene, trying to be tactful. "We only thought that
perhaps you might care to have a little help. Some of us would be ready
to paint a few if you like."

This put a different complexion on the case. The seniors, always
bristling for their privileges, resented idle curiosity--on the part of
the Transition. But an offer of hel