es. Esther gazed after her as she walked across
the floor with her dignified tread, and when the door was closed she
said slowly--

"I don't think Mariquita is as plain now as I did at first; do you,
Oswald?"

"N-no! I don't think I do. I should not call her exactly plain. She
is a funny little thing, but there's something nice about her face."

"Very nice!"

"Last night in the pink dress she looked almost pretty."

"Y-es!"

"Quite pretty!"

"Y-es! really quite pretty."

"We shall think her lovely in another week," said Mellicent tragically.
"Those awful Savilles! They are all alike--there is something Indian
about them. Indian people have a lot of secrets that we know nothing
about; they use spells, and poisons, and incantations that no English
person can understand, and they can charm snakes. I've read about it in
books. Arthur and Peggy were born in India, and it's my opinion that
they are bewitched. Perhaps the ayahs did it when they were in their
cradles. I don't say it is their own fault, but they are not like other
people, and they use their charms on us, as there are no snakes in
England. Look at Arthur! He was the naughtiest boy--always hurting
himself, and spilling things, and getting into trouble, and yet everyone
in the house bowed down before him, and did what he wanted.--Now mark my
words, Peggy will be the same!"

Mellicent's companions were not in the habit of "marking her words," but
on this occasion they looked thoughtful, for there was no denying that
they were already more or less under the spell of the remorseless
stranger.

On the afternoon of the fourth day Miss Peggy came down to tea with her
pigtail smoother and more glossy than ever, and the light of war shining
in her eyes. She drew her chair to the table, and looked blandly at
each of her companions in turn.

"I have been thinking," she said sweetly, and the listeners quaked at
the thought of what was coming. "The thought has been weighing on my
mind that we neglect many valuable and precious opportunities. This
hour, which is given to us for our own use, might be turned to profit
and advantage, instead of being idly frittered away--

"`In work, in work, in work alway,
Let my young days be spent.'

"It was the estimable Dr Watts, I think, who wrote those immortal
lines! I think it would be a desirable thing to carry on all
conversation at this table in the French language for the future.
_Passez-moi le b