The following morning Vetta Mindal stepped off the great passenger flitter into that new world.

Portangel in Frangea Winkel was a large bustling space full of bright sunshine next to a roaring sea. Crowds of girls wandered about outside the flitter port that had brought them from far and wide, for it was the arranged meeting point for the new arrivals at Miss Plazenby's.

Vetta stood, holding her clutch bag tightly, gazing in fascination at all the new faces around her, chattering and smiling and full of energy. She thought it all wonderful. So many new friends to make, life long friends. So many stories to share, thoughts to exchange, and knowledge to imbibe. It seemed the possibilities for pleasure were endless.

"You there!" came a loud voice next her ear and she flinched. Standing right up close to her was a girl about her own height, dressed in a blouse that seemed partly untucked and a tie slightly to the left. Atop her hatless head was a mass of curly red hair and she was so close Vetta could see her own startled reflection in eyes as deep and blue as her own. The girl was smiling but her manner seemed abrupt. "Do you know where you are meant to go? A mistress has already begun roll call for the new arrivals."

"I am Vetta Mindal from the Blessed Hub of Poldorama Winkel," she announced carefully.

"Well, they're calling family names by the alphabet so you won't have been summoned yet I guess," the girl said. "See that lady in the blue dress with the board? She's making the roll call. When you hear your name go to her and she will give you stuff to find your way to Mount Syzywyg."

Vetta sniggered.

"What a funny name," she said.

"No more so than yours," and with that the abrupt girl with the untucked blouse went off to accost other girls who were milling about uncertainly.

Vetta blushed for she had forgotten to thank the girl for her advice even if it had been delivered in a frightening way.

"I must remember," she said to herself, "not everyone is content to approach matters in a simple, unhurried way. People love to bustle sometimes." Then her name was called and in a panic she rushed forward, tripping as she did so. Her hat flew off and landed at the roll call lady's feet. Amid general merriment the hat was retrieved by the same lady and given back to Vetta in an impressively imperious manner.

"Vetta Mindal?"

"I am she, ma'am."

"There is no need to call me ma'am. Rather call me miss, as you might Miss Plazenby herself. She will welcome you later. For now here are the instruction codes for your online access and personal tablet. You have brought a tablet?" She searched the girl's figure for the said device but it was nowhere to be seen.

"It is in my luggage miss."

"Well, retrieve it as soon as you're settled. You have been assigned a first year dorm which you will share with five other girls. We call this sharing of space and close confinement character building. Your family might own half the land where you come from but here at Miss Plazenby's a sense of comradeship, tolerance and understanding are essential qualities you must learn and apply in the everyday things of life. From today you are a Wonder girl," and with that she moved Vetta to one side and called the next name on her list.

Wondering what it meant to be a Wonder girl, Vetta wandered a little off from the noisy crowd until she almost bumped into someone else.

"I'm sorry I laughed," a soft voice sounded in Vetta's ear and she looked up into brown eyes set in a pretty pale face framed by soft brown hair. "I mean with the tripping over and everything. Are you a Sensation?" came the curious question as if she was expected to perform stumbles on request.

"I don't think so. I'm just me really."

"And who might you be? I'm Petal Mara from Greenvale. I meant have you been assigned to Sensation Dormitory?"

"Ah no. I am Vetta Mindal. It is all I am I think, though the mistress considered I was a Wonder."

"Then you have been assigned to Wonder Dormitory. Never mind. It would have been nice to share with you as you seem really sweet." With that the girl drifted off towards a waiting crowd as the roll call was almost done and elder pupils, prefects by their badges and bearing, began shepherding the newcomers to the assigned passenger vehicles that would take them on the fifty mile drive south along the coast and then up into the pine wood hills where the school was located.

Vetta looked at the paperwork she had been given and realised her name was not upon it anywhere. If by chance in the coast breeze she might drop it like she did her hat no one would know it belonged to her but she also realised she had no means of writing her name. Thus she approached a small knot of girls and summoned the courage to speak to one of them, a tall girl with dark straight hair partly braided.

"Please, I am sorry, do you have something available I might write with?" and she held up her sheet meaningfully. The girl turned, slightly startled, for she had been lost in her own thoughts. Without comment she dipped into her small shoulder bag that glittered a little in the sunshine.

"Here you are," and the girl offered her a pencil from a bundle in her outstretched hand.

"You are very kind," Vetta said. "You have pencils in three different colours. That is amazing," and she chose the lemon coloured one.

"Well, I suppose I am a little extravagant," the girl replied with an amused smile.

"Did you see that red-haired girl that came right up to me?" Vetta then said, feeling the need in all this newness to make conversation. "She came up really close and I was nearly frightened. Yet she was only being helpful, asking if I knew where I was supposed to go. Once she had told me she went away immediately to confront others. She seemed nice, but she did bustle about rather energetically."

"Full of vitamins that one," came a slightly casual answer.

"Vitamins are essential for good health, and that is one of the five well-springs of joy," Vetta declared with happy conviction.

This curious answer made the girl look with more considered scrutiny at the newcomer.

"So what was it that brought you all the way here from, uh?" and she made a questioning face.

"Poldorama," came the eager response. Vetta fired up with the thrill of a storyteller. "It was so interesting how it happened," she said, waving the lemon-coloured pencil about in an uncharacteristic show of animation. "My father looked at me one day and said, dear Vettel Petal - he calls me that even though he knows my name is Vetta and not Vettel, so he can rhyme it with petal."

"Thought it might be something like that."

"Oh yes, he's so creative sometimes. Well, Vettal Petal, he said, under that waxy surface, meaning my skin, you're as pale as a Subba cheese - that's a very pale cheese, one of the forty two varieties he makes. Well, he said, mother and I got to thinking you need a bit of adventure in your life to put colour in those waxy cheeks of yours, so we're selling off a quarter of the stock and sending you right across the world to Frangea to learn directly from that Miss Plazenby everybody's talking about. There! Don't you think that was generous of him?"

"A quarter of his stock? You mean he beggared himself to send you here? That's certainly generous."

"Generosity is one of the five well-springs of joy," the girl said proudly and the other laughed.