for me as fair
Rosamond in the picture I have to show to get permission to draw in the
life-room. I'll have to send in an old one, I suppose. Look over these
for me, and tell me which you like best."

Hope turned over the sketches in the portfolio, smiling with sisterly
pleasure as she recognised one old favourite after another. It seemed
incredible to her partiality that Madge should not have immediately
ranked as a genius among the students of the school, for surely there
was something peculiarly original in the treatment of these figures!

She held out a sheet towards her sisters, and cried eagerly, "There!
That is my choice. What do you think of that?"

"Good--suggestive--full of atmosphere!" pronounced Theo in her most
professional manner; while Philippa put her head on one side, and in all
innocence of heart launched a bombshell into their midst.

"Wouldn't it make a good poster? Doesn't it look exactly like some of
the posters you see upon the hoardings?"

It was seldom indeed that a speech of Philippa's could wound her
faithful friend and admirer, but this time the arrow went home, and
Madge's thin cheek flushed with displeasure. She gathered together the
scattered sketches in silence, keeping her head rigorously turned aside,
while Hope made strenuous efforts to redeem the situation.

"Well, really, so it does! They say poster-painting is quite an art
nowadays. I hear it pays so well that many artists would be thankful to
take it up, if it were not that it requires a special talent.
Personally I hope it will be cultivated. It would be so delightful to
see the old eyesores replaced by really artistic pictures."

In vain! Madge remained silent, red, and angry. Poster-painting may be
admirable in its way, but when a student dreams of becoming a female
Leighton or Alma Tadema, the alternative is not welcomed with
enthusiasm. Philippa reflected sadly that another unfortunate remark
was scored against her; but Madge was of too happy a disposition to
harbour a grudge, and in half-an-hour's time the grievance was dismissed
from her mind, and she was once more her own sunny self.

When Barney returned home that evening he joined in the general chorus
of lament at Hope's departure, though his sorrow flowed from a somewhat
different source from that of his sisters.

"What a fag!" he cried. "Now that old Hermit Johnny will think that we
are quiet because he complained. I wish to goodness I had taken