ate attempt to interrupt Gowan's flow of
words, but she might as well have tried to stop the brook. When Gowan
began, she never even paused for breath. Her wrath was like a whirlwind.
Laurette's three chums had turned away as if rather ashamed, and began
hastily to get out books and writing-materials. They pretended not to
notice when Laurette looked at them for support.

"Yes, you needn't think Truie and Hester and Muriel will back you up!"
continued Gowan. "Unless they're as mean as you are. There! I've
finished now, so you needn't butt in! You know exactly what I think of
you. Come along, Carmel!"

The two immediate results of this episode were a bitter feud between
Laurette and Gowan, and a sympathetic interest in Miss Herbert by all
the members of the Mafia. They felt that her confidence had been
betrayed, and they would have liked somehow to make it up to her. They
brought so many floral offerings to her bedroom that her vases were
almost inconveniently crowded.

Carmel, hearing that she was collecting post cards, sent home for some
special ones of Sicily; Dulcie tendered chocolates; Lilias crocheted her
a pincushion cover, and Bertha painted her a hair-tidy. She accepted
their little kindnesses with mild astonishment, but not a hint of the
real reason of their sudden advances flashed across her mind.

"We mustn't let her suspect!" said Dulcie.

"Rather not!" agreed Carmel.

"Not for worlds!" said Gowan emphatically.

CHAPTER XII

White Magic

October passed by with flaming crimson and gold on the trees, and orange
and mauve toadstools among the moss of the woods, and squirrels
scampering up the Scotch pines at the top of the garden, laying by their
winter store of nuts; and flocks of migrating birds twittering in the
fields, and hosts of glittering red hips and haws in the hedges, and
shrouds of fairy gossamer over the blackberry bushes. It was Carmel's
first autumn in England, and, though her artistic temperament revelled
in the beauty of the tints, the falling leaves filled her with
consternation.

"It is so sad to see them all come down," she declared. "Why the trees
will soon be quite bare! Nothing but branches left!"

"What else do you expect?" asked Gowan. "They won't keep green all the
winter."

"I suppose not. But in Sicily we have so many evergreens and shrubs that
flower all the winter. The oranges and lemons begin to get ripe soon
after Christmas, and we have agaves and prickly