You'll find her initials carved in Number 10 across the hall, and her portrait--the only one I could find--is in this graduating group." The girls all crowded forward to look at the group photograph which Kit held out to them, just as a knock came at the door.

For one dramatic instant Kit held the knob, her back against the door as she announced in almost a whisper: "The granddaughter of Malcolm Douglas." The girls leaned forward, eagerly, every eye fixed upon the door.

As Kit said afterwards, laughingly to Anne: "Goodness knows who they expected to see, but I almost felt as though I had promised them the excitement of a live mummy and then had sprung Marcelle.

Oh, but wasn't she splendid, Anne?
The way she stood the introduction and the shock of finding herself the guest of honor.

As I looked at her, I thought to myself, you may be Douglas, and you may be Morton, fine old Scotch and English stock, but if it wasn't for the dash of debonair Beaubien in you too, you could never carry this off the way you are doing." Marcelle was not the only person present who had to fall back on inherent caste for their manners of the moment, but Tony was the only one that gave an audible gasp.