"DEAR MADAM,

"Having seen your portrait, as a noted beauty, published in _The Princess_, _The Ladies' Court Journal_, and other leading pictorials, we venture to submit to you a sample of our famous Eau de Venus, an invaluable adjunct to the toilet of any lady possessing a delicate complexion. It is a perfectly harmless, fragrantly scented fluid, which, if applied daily after breakfast, produces a rose-leaf bloom which is absolutely incomparable. As it is a new preparation, we are anxious to submit it to a few ladies of influence in the fashionable world, feeling sure that, once used, they will recommend it.

"We shall esteem it a great favour if you will graciously try the enclosed sample. We do not ask for testimonials, but any expression of appreciation from one who figured so admirably as Queen of the Roses at the Barrfield Pageant would be to us a source of immense gratification.

"May we recommend that the preparation be applied immediately after breakfast, as its ingredients are more potent to the delicate pores of the skin if used at that period of the morning.

"With apologies for troubling you, and hoping you will condescend to give our Eau de Venus at least a trial,

"We remain,

"Faithfully yours,

"RENAN, MARIETTE, ET CIE, Parfumeurs."

"How very peculiar!" gasped Beth, much impressed.

"It must be because they saw my photo in the papers," said Stephanie.

She was trying to speak casually, and not to appear too flattered, but her eyes shone. "I believe that pageant made rather a sensation, and of course, well, I was the princ.i.p.al figure in it. I suppose I shall have to try this Eau de Venus."

"It's in a funny little bottle," commented Beth.

"Samples generally are. They never send you very much of a thing. They want you to buy a big bottle afterwards."

Stephanie carefully removed the cork. The preparation seemed to be of a pink, milky description.

"It smells of violets," she said, offering the bottle for Beth to sniff.

"I should certainly try it, if I were you," recommended the latter.

"It says it's quite harmless," continued Stephanie, referring to the letter, "and should be used immediately after breakfast. Well, there's no time like the present!"

If there was a curious agitation on the other side of the part.i.tion, neither girl noticed it. Stephanie poured some of the liquid into her hand and rubbed it over her face. Then she turned to the looking-gla.s.s.

"It seems very pink and queer! It's all in red streaks!"

"Perhaps you've put on too much. Wipe some of it off," advised Beth.

Vigorous measures with a sponge followed, and Stephanie anxiously surveyed the result.

"It won't come off!" she faltered. "Oh, what have I done to myself? I'm all red smears!"

Her dismay was too much for one at least on the other side of the part.i.tion. Rona broke into a loud, cackling laugh. One swift glance upwards and Stephanie realized that she was the victim of a practical joke. It took her exactly three seconds to reach the next cubicle.

"So it's you, is it?" she exploded. "Well, Ulyth Stanton, I am astonished! Evil communications corrupt good manners, and yours smack of the backwoods."

"Don't throw it on Ulyth; she knew nothing about it," retorted the chuckling Cuckoo belligerently. "It's my business, and I don't mind telling you so!"

"I might have known, you--you utter cad! You don't deserve to be in a school among ladies!"

"Go on. Pitch it as strong as you like. The cub's quits with you now for all your airs and your nastiness."

"Oh, don't!" protested Ulyth, interfering in much distress. "Rona, do stop! I'd no idea you meant to play such a dreadful trick on Stephie."

"You must have known something of it, or you wouldn't have come to look on. I expect you were at the bottom of it," sneered Stephanie; "so don't try to sneak out of it, Ulyth Stanton. Your precious joke has marked me for life."

"No, no! It's only cochineal and milk. I got it from the cook," put in the Cuckoo.

"It's stained her face all over, though," said Beth Broadway reproachfully.

"I shall go straight to Miss Bowes," whimpered Stephanie.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Ulyth. "Try some methylated spirit first. I'll give you some from my room."

The remedy proved efficacious. The stains yielded to gentle rubbing, and the four girls flew in a wild hurry to make their beds, three much relieved and one naughtily exultant.

"I've paid out Stephie," panted Rona, tucking in her blankets anyhow. "I felt proud of that letter. Made it up with the help of advertis.e.m.e.nts in the _Ill.u.s.trated Journal_. Then I typed it in the study while Teddie was out. You didn't know I could type? Learnt how on the voyage, from a girl who'd a typewriter on board with her. I laid on the b.u.t.ter pretty thick.

I knew Steph would swallow it to any amount. Oh, didn't she just look flattered? It was prime! The under-housemaid posted the parcel for me."

"Stephie'll never forgive you!"

"Much I care!"

CHAPTER VII

The Cuckoo's Progress

"Your bear cub still needs taming, Ulyth," said Gertrude Oliver. "She spilt her coffee this morning--such a mess on the tablecloth! I wish I didn't sit next to her. I felt like Alice at the March Hare's tea-party."

"It was half Maud's fault; she jerked her elbow," pleaded Ulyth in extenuation.

"Oh, you can't whitewash her, so don't try! I won't say she isn't better than when she arrived, but there's room for improvement."

"She's much slimmer. I suppose it must have been the voyage that had made her grow so fat in September."

"I wish, at any rate, you could get her out of using those dreadful backwoods expressions. It's high time she dropped them. She's been here nearly a full term."

Ulyth thought so too, and the next time she found a suitable opportunity she tackled Rona on the subject.

"You're too nice to speak in such a queer way. You've no idea how it spoils you," she urged. "You could be another girl if you'd only take a little trouble."

"What's the use? Who minds what I'm like?" returned the Cuckoo a trifle defiantly.

"I do," said Ulyth emphatically.