ys, still showed some remnants of its former
glory. As it was in an out-of-the-way spot and far from the tennis
courts, it was not often visited, and had therefore been appropriated by
the Camellia Buds as a suitable place for the secret meetings of their
sorority.

The nine were all assembled here waiting impatiently for Irene. She
brushed through the jessamine-covered doorway, took her seat, and
breathlessly explained the reason of her delay.

"Would you have believed such meanness?" she ended.

Peachy nodded solemnly.

"I told you some of our precious Transition would make you blush. Was
it Bertha? I thought so! I knew she had got hold of Mabel. I believe
they're buddies, and a charming pair they'll be! We shall have to tackle
them somehow. This certainly can't be allowed to go on."

"Isn't it a case for the prefects?" asked Irene, addressing the
President.

Agnes's forehead was drawn into a series of puckers.

"We hate telling," she sighed. "The fact is the prefects in this school
aren't quite what they ought to be. They _think_ they do their duty, but
they're too aloof and high-handed and bossing, and the consequence is
they're not popular, and the girls would as soon complain to a teacher
as to Rachel or Sybil or Erica. It simply isn't done. Yet those kids
need a champion. There are several abuses among them that I've noticed
myself."

"Guess we've got to take it on then and 'champ'," murmured Delia.

"Poor little souls, it's a shame to steal their 'bikkies'; we'll have to
stand over them and act as fairy godmothers," said Sheila.

Peachy bounced suddenly in her seat.

"Sheila Yonge, you've given me an idea--yes, an absolute brain-throb.
What the Camellia Buds ought to do is to turn the sorority into an
Amalgamated Society of Fairy Godmothers, and each of us take over a
junior to look after and act providence to. It's what those kids are
just aching for--only they mayn't know it. What good are prefects to
them except as bogies? They skedaddle like lightning if they see so much
as Rachel's shadow. They each ought to have one older girl whom they can
count on as a friend."

"A kind of buddy?"

"Something of the sort, but more like a foster-mother."

"I vote we ask them all to a candy party, and each adopt one," suggested
Delia warmly.

"There are ten of us, and there are nineteen juniors," calculated Jess.
"How's it going to work out?"

"Why, some of us must take twins or even triplets," decreed