Certainly the new-comer went through the ordinary routine of classes, walks, and games without any display of enthusiasm. Gowan Barbour tried to coach her at cricket, but the result was not successful.
"It's a boy's game, and the ball is so hard, it hurts my hands!" objected Carmel.
"Didn't you play cricket at home?"
"Never!"
"Or tennis?"
"On a cinder court. The sun scorched up our grass court."
"What used you to do then, to amuse yourself?"
"We made paper dresses for the carnival, and sometimes we acted. We used to have plays on the veranda, or in the garden. And we went on picnics to the hills. It was beautiful there in spring, when the anemones were out in the fields."
"We're to have a picnic next Saturday," announced Gowan; "I heard Miss Walters telling Miss Herbert so."
It was perhaps with special reference to Carmel that Miss Walters had arranged an outing for the school. It was bluebell time, and the woods in the neighborhood would be a show. By permission of the owner, Sir Ranald Joynson, they were to have access to large private grounds, and to be allowed to ramble in his famous rhododendron gardens. None of the girls had ever been there before, so it was a treat for all. Motor wagonettes were to convey them all the six miles; they were to start after an early lunch, and to take tea baskets with them. Even Carmel cheered up at the pleasant prospect.