perfunctory applause. Gladys and Migwan, who glanced at each other as
Miss Peckham stepped forward, were surprised to hear that she was Dr.
Grayson's cousin.

"That accounts for her being here," Gladys whispered, and Migwan
whispered in return, "We'll just have to make the best of her."

Bengal glowered at Miss Peckham and made no pretense of applauding her,
and Migwan saw her whispering to the group around her, and saw Bengal's
expression of dislike swiftly reflected on the faces of her listeners.
Thus, before Miss Peckham was fairly introduced, her unpopularity was
already sealed. It takes very little to make a reputation at camp.
Estimates are formed very swiftly, and great attachments and antipathies
are formed at first sight. Young girls seem to scent, by some mysterious
intuition, who is really in sympathy with them, and who is only
pretending to be, and bestow or withhold their affections accordingly.
In the code of the camp girl classifications are very simple; a camper
is either a "peach" or a "prune." All the other councilors were
"peaches"; that was the instantaneous verdict of the Keewaydin Campers
during the introductions; Miss Peckham, regardless of the fact that she
was Dr. Grayson's cousin, was a "prune."

The last councilor to be introduced was a handsome, white-haired woman
named Miss Amesbury, who was introduced as the patron saint of the camp,
the designer of the beautiful Mateka, the House of Joyous Learning.
Miss Amesbury was neither an instructor nor a tent councilor; she had
just come to be a friend and helper to the whole camp, and lived on the
second story balcony of Mateka. Word had traveled around among the girls
that she was a famous author, and a ripple of expectation agitated the
ranks of the campers as she rose in answer to Dr. Grayson's summons.