was all."

"'Popular'...!"

"The one thing, perhaps, that we have never been."

Miss Cordelia shook her head and made a helpless gesture. "Well," she
said at last, "I must confess we were looking for an antidote ... but I
never thought we'd be quite so successful...."

CHAPTER VI

A few weeks after her arrival, Helen and Mary were walking to the
post-office. Helen had a number of letters to mail, her correspondents
being active and her answers prompt.

They hadn't gone far when a young man appeared in the distance,
approaching them. Mary gave him a look to see who it was, and after
saying to Helen, "This is Bob McAllister--one of our neighbours. He's
home from school," she continued the conversation and failed to give Sir
Robert another thought.

Not so Helen, however.

One hand went to the back of her hair with a graceful gesture, and next
she touched her nose with a powdered handkerchief.

A moment before, she had been looking straight ahead with a rather
thoughtful expression, but now she half turned to Mary, smiling and
nodding. In some manner her carriage, even her walk, underwent a change.
But when I try to tell you what I mean I feel as tongue-tied as a boy who
is searching for a word which doesn't exist. As nearly as I can express
it, she seemed to "wiggle" a little, although that isn't the word. She
seemed to hang out a sign "Oh, look--look at me!"--and that doesn't quite
describe it, either.

Just as Master McAllister reached them, raising his hat and bowing to
Mary and her friend--Helen's eyes and Helen's smile unconsciously
lingered on him for a second or two until, apparently recollecting that
she was looking at another, she lowered her glance and peeped at him
through her eyelashes instead.

Mary meanwhile was calmly continuing her conversation, never even
suspecting the comedy which was going on by her side, but when Helen shot
a glance over her shoulder and whispered with satisfaction "He turned to
look!" even Mary began to have some slight idea of what was going on.

"Helen," she demurred, "you should never turn around to look at a young
man."

"Why not?" laughed Helen, her arm going around her cousin's waist. And
speaking in the voice of one who has just achieved a triumph, she added,
"They're all such fo-oo-ools!"

Mary thought that over.

Helen's correspondents continued active, and as each letter arrived she
read parts of it to her cousin. She was a mimic, and two of the