ANGEL PAVEMENT

''Oh, don't!" Miss Matfield groaned.

"I say that it's a marvel to me we don't just marry
anybody, anybody at all, or, failing that, run away with
somebody. A place like this simply encourages wild
matrimony and risky adventures. And if there isn't more
of it, I'll tell you why. It's not just because we're all such
ni-ice, ni-ice girls, so ni-icely brought up, but because
there aren't many chances going about."

"Oh, aren't there, Morrison?" said Caddie. "Speak
for yourself."

"I'm not speaking for myself or for anybody in
particular—"

"You're certainly not speaking for me, Miss
Morrison," said Miss Snaresbrook, with large, sweet,
forgiving smile. "I like the society of men, but I like
the society of other girls too. Whoever they are, I find
they interest me, and we have something to say to one
another, very often some little secret to share, some con-
fession to make. Of course, I admit those little clair-
voyant gifts of mine have helped me a great deal, and
have brought me friends, dear friends, among girls who
probably imagined at first that they and I hadn't much
in common. And I'm sure I intend to enjoy my-self at
the Burpenfield." And, smiling sympathetically at them
all, she rose and left the table.

"And I hope it keeps fine for you," murmured Miss
Morrison to her retreating back. "You know, of the
many ghastly specimens who have turned up here this
year, I think that one the worst."

"Oh? I don't know," said Miss Cadnam. "She's not
so bad, really—"

"That's because she's going to read Caddie's palm to
find her gift of expression/' Miss Matfield explained.