both were in time with the tune that she was
trilling. It seemed a spontaneous expression of gaiety as natural as the
flight of a dragon-fly or the sporting of a kitten. Her dark hair flew
out behind her, her eyes shone and sparkled, and her cheeks flushed with
unwonted color. For the moment she looked the very incarnation of joy,
and might have been Artemis surprised in a Sicilian grove. It was such a
fresh aspect of Carmel that the girls stared at her in amazement. From
Princess she had changed to Oread, and they did not know her in this new
mood. They gave her performance a hearty clap, however, as she stopped
and sank panting on to the steps.

"You'll have to turn dancing-mistress, Carmel, and give the others a
lesson in your Pastorale," said Miss Walters. "It's a pretty step, and
we shall ask you to do it again when we give our garden fete in aid of
the 'Waifs and Strays.' Don't you think our English scenery can compare
favorably even with your beloved Sicily?"

"It's very beautiful," admitted Carmel, "but I miss Etna in the
distance."

"Then you won't yield us the palm?" laughed Miss Walters.

"I love it all, I do indeed, but Sicily will always be the most
beautiful place in the world to me, because it's home!"

CHAPTER VII

An Old Greek Idyll

After the picnic at Bradstone, Carmel, possibly from something she heard
the girls say about her, seemed to make a supreme effort to overcome her
homesickness, and to settle down as an ordinary and rational member of
the school. She was undoubtedly a favorite. Even Lilias admitted her
charm, though she had not fallen under her spell so completely as
Dulcie. At the bottom of her heart, Lilias could not quite forgive
Carmel for supplanting her brother at the Chase. From the night he had
said good-by and motored to Balderton, not a word had been heard of
Everard. He had not returned to school, neither had he visited any
relations or friends, and indeed since he stepped out of the car at the
railway station all trace of him seemed to have vanished. Mr. Bowden did
not take the matter too seriously. He considered Everard was more of a
man now than a schoolboy, and that, if he had fulfilled his threat of
running away to sea, the brief experience of a voyage before the mast
would do him no harm, and that when the vessel returned to port he
would probably be only too glad to come back and claim his share of the
inheritance.

This easy view annoyed Lilias. She had