[Illustration: GWEN IS CAUGHT BY THE STORM]

 The Youngest Girl

 in the Fifth

 A School Story

 BY

 ANGELA BRAZIL

 Author of "The Leader of the Lower School" "A Pair of Schoolgirls" "The New Girl at St. Chad's" "A Fourth Form Friendship" &c. 

 _ILLUSTRATED BY STANLEY DAVIS_

 BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED

 LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY

 * * * * *

Contents

CHAP. 

I. AN UNEXPECTED REMOVE

II. THE GASCOYNE GIRLS

III. A FALSE STEP

IV. A DELICATE TRANSACTION

V. TROUBLE IN THE FIFTH

VI. A CASTING VOTE

VII. DICK CHAMBERS

VIII. GWEN RECEIVES A LETTER

IX. KEEPING CHRISTMAS

X. A PRODIGAL

XI. A PRIZE ESSAY

XII. GWEN TURNS HENWIFE

XIII. THE SHOE PINCHES

XIV. GWEN MEETS TROUBLE

XV. STORM CLOUDS

XVI. FIRST AID

XVII. A PRESSING ACCOUNT

XVIII. GWEN'S BRIGHT IDEA

XIX. A SCHOOL GYMKHANA

XX. A DAY OF RECKONING

XXI. RETRIBUTION

XXII. THE TENNIS TOURNAMENT

XXIII. GWEN TO THE RESCUE

XXIV. THE SENIOR OXFORD

 * * * * *

Illustrations

GWEN IS CAUGHT BY THE STORM _Frontispiece_

GWEN MEETS DICK

"THINGS GO SO HARDLY WITH ME SOMEHOW, DAD"

"OH, I SAY, WELL CAUGHT!"

"YES, YOU CAN EASILY GO MILES OUT OF YOUR WAY"

"IT WAS BASIL WHO SPIED HIM FIRST"

 * * * * *

THE YOUNGEST GIRL IN THE FIFTH

CHAPTER I

An Unexpected Remove

"Gwen! Gwen Gascoyne! Gwen! Anybody seen her? I say, have you all gonedeaf? Don't you hear me? Where's Gwen? I--want--Gwen--Gascoyne!"

The speaker--Ida Bridge--a small, perky, spindle-legged Junior, jumpedon to the nearest seat, and raising her shrill voice to its topmostpitch, twice shouted the "Gwen Gascoyne", with an aggressive energycalculated to make herself heard above the babel of general chatterthat pervaded the schoolroom. Her effort, though far from musical, atany rate secured her the notice she desired. 

"Hello, there! Stop that noise! It's like a dog howling!" iratelycommanded a girl in spectacles who was cleaning the blackboard. 

"And get down from my desk this minute! Who said you might climb upthere?"

"Look here, you kid, what are you doing in our classroom?"

"Take yourself off at once! Fly! Scoot!"

The "kid", however, stood her ground. 

"Shan't move till you've answered my question, " she replied withaggravating impudence. "I want Gwen Gascoyne. "

"Why, there she is all the time!"

"Where?"

"Under your very nose, you stupid baby! Get down from my desk, I tellyou!"

The Junior cast what was intended to be a withering glance before shedescended. 

"Gwen Gascoyne, why couldn't you answer when I called you?" shedemanded abruptly. 

Gwen paused in the act of sharpening a lead pencil, and eyed theintruder. 

"Who asked you to come in here?" she retorted. 

"You babes must keep to your own classrooms! Hey, presto! Vanish! Andbe quick about it!" interposed Myra Johnson. 

"Shan't! Not till I've spoken to Gwen. "

"Cheek!"

"Suppress that kid!"

"But I've got a message!" squeaked the babe, as sundry arms of justicethrust her summarily in the direction of the door. "Oh, I havereally--a message for Gwen from Miss Roscoe! She's to go to thelibrary--now!"

"Then why couldn't you say so at first?"

"You never gave me a chance!"

Gwen threw the half-sharpened pencil inside her desk and banged downthe lid. 

"What does Miss Roscoe want with me?" she asked in some consternation. "Are you sure she meant me?"

A summons from the headmistress rarely boded good fortune to therecipient, and the girls stared at Gwen with interested sympathy. 

"What have you been doing?" murmured Eve Dawkins. 

"Glad I'm not in your shoes!" proclaimed Daisy Hurst. 

"Oh, Gwen, I am sorry for you!" bleated Alma Richardson. 

"I've not been doing anything!" protested Gwen indignantly. "You've noneed to look at me as if I were a cross between a criminal and amartyr! Here, you babe, what did Miss Roscoe say?"

"Only that you're to go to the library; and you'd better be quick, because she said: 'Tell her to come at once!' Said it in her snappiestway, too! I shouldn't be a month about going if I were you. Hello!There's the bell. Ta-ta, I'm off! I wish you luck!" and Ida Bridgefled to the region of her own classroom, with a grin on her impishface. 

Though she might rail at the impudence of the small fry, Gwen was notabove taking a hint--headmistresses do not lightly brook being keptwaiting--so she started at a run up the passage, turning over in hermind every possible crime which she might unwittingly have committed. 

"Can't remember using the front gate, or not changing my boots, ortalking on the stairs, or--oh, wow! Here I am at the library! Well, whatever I've done, I suppose I'm in for it now! I hope she won'tabsolutely wither me up!"

So far from looking withering as Gwen entered the room, the Principalwore an unusually encouraging and benign expression. She was ahandsome, large, imposing woman, with a stern cast of features, andwas held in great awe by the whole school. As a rule, Seniors andJuniors quailed alike under the glance of her keen dark eyes. 

"Come here, Gwen, " she said blandly, as her pupil stood hesitatingnear the door. "I want to have a little talk with you. I've beenlooking over your reports for the last few weeks, and I find thatyou've done well--so well, that I consider the standard of the UpperFourth is too easy for you. I think you ought to be able to manage thework of the Fifth Form, and I'm going to move you there. "

Gwen stared at Miss Roscoe, too surprised to answer. Such a proposalas a change of Form was absolutely the last thing she could haveexpected. In the middle of a term it was surely an unprecedentedhappening. For the moment she scarcely knew whether to be alarmed orflattered at the honour thus thrust upon her. 

"You may find the mathematics a little difficult, " continued MissRoscoe; "but Miss Woodville shall coach you until you've caught up therest of the class. She can also go over the arrears of Latintranslation with you. With that help you shouldn't be so far behind. I've spoken to both Miss Slade and Miss Douglas about it, and theyfully agree with me. Do you think yourself you'll be able to managethe work?"

"I don't know, I'm sure, " stammered Gwen. "I expect I'm behind inmaths. --but--"

"But you must try your best. I shall trust you to make a great effort. I should be very sorry to have to put you down again. Come with menow, and I'll take you to your new Form. "

Gwen followed the Principal with her head in a buzzing whirl. Itseemed like a dream to be suddenly translated from the Lower School tothe Upper. She wished she could have had a little time to getaccustomed to the idea: she would have liked a day's preparation atleast, so as to think the change over and discuss it at home. MissRoscoe, however, always did things in a hurry; she never had a momentto waste, and at present she whisked her pupil along the corridor andinto the Fifth Form room with almost breathless energy. 

"Here's Gwen Gascoyne, Miss Douglas, " she announced. "We'll try if shecan manage the work, and I've arranged with Miss Woodville to give herthe extra coaching we spoke about. She can bring her books from herold classroom at eleven. "

Thus saying, she bustled away to take a history lecture, leaving thenew member of the Fifth standing in much embarrassment. The eyes ofevery girl in the room naturally were glued upon Gwen, who feltherself twitching with nervousness under the scrutiny; but MissDouglas motioned her to an empty desk in the back row, and went onwith the lesson as if nothing had happened. I am afraid Gwen was tooagitated to absorb much knowledge that morning. She had not broughtnotebook or pencil with her, and though at Miss Douglas's request herneighbour rather ungraciously lent her a sheet of paper and a stump ofpencil, the notes which she took were scrappy and inadequate. She keptstealing peeps at the other girls, but turning away when she met theanything but friendly glances directed at her. The teacher asked herone or two questions, then, seeing that she did not quite grasp thesubject, kindly ignored her. 

"Talk of a fish out of water, " thought Gwen; "I feel like an eel in afrying pan. I believe these girls are going to be detestable. I shallhave to look out for squalls. "

Nor was she mistaken. At eleven o'clock the storm broke. Directly MissDouglas had left the room for the interval the seventeen members ofthe Fifth turned upon the newcomer. 

"What are you doing here, Gwen Gascoyne, I'd like to know?" demandedEdith Arnold, opening the attack. 

"We don't want any Fourth Form girls foisted on us!" proclaimed RachelHunter. 

"You don't belong to the Upper School!" urged Charlotte Perry hotly. 

"I didn't yesterday, but I do now, " retorted Gwen. "Miss Roscoe'smoved me up. Yes--and I mean to stay here, too!" she added, facing heropponents stubbornly. 

"Miss Roscoe must be mad!"

"What can she be thinking of?"

"Better go and ask her yourself, " said Gwen, "if you think she'slikely to listen to you. She isn't generally very ready to enter intoexplanations. "

"But this is monstrous! It's an unheard-of thing!" exclaimed LouiseMawson excitedly. "A chit like you to be brought into the Fifth! Why, how old are you?"

"Exactly fourteen and a quarter--birthday on July 16th, if you wantexact date, " returned Gwen smartly. 

"Oh!" "What a shame!" "We shan't stand it!" rose in such a chorus fromall sides that Gwen took the opportunity to make her escape and go tothe dressing-room for her lunch. The interval was only ten minutes, and she wished both to break the news to her old classmates and tofetch some necessary books from her former desk before the bell rang. 

The other members of the Fifth lingered behind in perturbedconsultation. They considered they had a just and most pressinggrievance. In all the annals of the school such a case had neveroccurred before. It had been hitherto an inviolable though unwrittenlaw that no one under the age of fifteen should be admitted to theFifth Form, a law which they had believed as strict as that of theMedes and Persians, and here was the headmistress actually breakingit, and in favour of a girl only fourteen and a quarter. If MissRoscoe had not brought her herself into the room they would not havecredited it. 

"It's abominably unfair!" broke out Rachel Hunter, a tall girl ofsixteen. "Because my birthday comes on October 4th I had to stop awhole year longer in the Lower School. Yes--though my mother came andbegged Miss Roscoe to let me go up!"

"Well, you couldn't get moved up on your work, at any rate, Rachel!"chirped Joan Masters. "It would have had to be favour in your case. "

"That's not the point! It's a different question. If Miss Roscoe makesa rule she ought to stick to it. Why, half the girls in the Form mighthave come up sooner if it hadn't been for the age limit. "

"You're right, and I can't see why Gwen Gascoyne should be sospecially noticed. "

"She's supposed to be clever, I believe. "

"She doesn't look it! Besides, what do we care whether she's clever ornot? It's the injustice of the thing that makes me angry. A kid likeher amongst us seniors! The idea!"

"Miss Roscoe may send Gwen up, " declared Louise Mawson, "but she can'tmake us accept her as one of ourselves. I vote we send her toCoventry. "

"We will! She's nothing but a Lower School girl, and we won't tolerateher being imposed upon us!"

"She'll be so conceited at finding herself a Senior!"

"We'll soon take her pride down, then!"

"She'll meet with a few snubs here, I'll undertake to say!"

"If Miss Roscoe is going to bring up all the rank and file like thatthere's no credit in being in the Fifth!"

"It's a positive insult to the rest of us!"

So decided Gwen's new classmates, jealous for the prestige of theirForm, and annoyed at the indignity which they considered they weremade to suffer in admitting a younger girl among their number. To Gwenor her feelings they gave not a thought. If she met with an unpleasantexperience all the better; it might deter Miss Roscoe from repeatingthe experiment. That the remove was not Gwen's fault, and thereforethat it was scarcely fair to visit the headmistress's act upon herinnocent head, did not enter into their calculations. Where theyconsider their rights are concerned schoolgirls rarely hold mercybefore justice. 

Meantime Gwen, who had gone to break the important tidings to theUpper Fourth, did not find her old friends as responsive as she hadexpected. They received her communication with marked coldness. 

"Why should you have been moved up, Gwen Gascoyne, and not Daisy, orAileen, or I?" enquired Alma Richardson, with a distinctly aggrievednote in her voice. 

"Miss Roscoe always favoured Gwen!" said Eve Dawkins enviously. 

"You're six months younger than Viola Sutton, so it seems absurd youshould be put above her. "

"You'll be so grand now, I suppose you won't care to know us!"

"It's not fair to the rest of the Form!"

"Oh dear! I'm between two fires, " thought Gwen, as she hastily clearedher possessions from her old desk. "The Fifth don't want me, and theFourth are horribly jealous. You're going to have a bad time, GwenGascoyne, I'm afraid! I see breakers ahead! Never mind. It's a greathonour to be moved up, and Father'll be glad and sympathize, if nobodyelse does. The work will be pretty stiff: I expect it'll be all I cando to manage it. But I mean to have a jolly good try. I'll show thosegirls I can do something, though I am the youngest! Oh, I say! I'veonly just remembered that Winnie'll be the under-mistress. I'll haveto call her 'Miss Gascoyne' whenever I speak to her. How perfectlyidiotic! I'm sure I shall laugh. I wonder if Miss Roscoe's told heryet? What a surprise it would be for her to come into the room andfind me there!"

"I wish you'd be quick, Gwen Gascoyne, " said Eve Dawkins; "I'm to haveyour desk as soon as you've moved out. It's a nicer seat than mine. "

"Right-o!" answered Gwen, piling her books on top of her big atlas. "You're welcome to it, I'm sure. I think you might all have seemed atrifle more sorry to lose me! I don't see any display of pockethandkerchiefs. No, I can't say I'm shedding tears myself unlessthey're crocodile ones. Please to recollect in future, my dears, whenyou speak to me, that you're addressing a member of the Upper School!You're only little Junior girls! Ta-ta!" and with a mock curtsy, inprocess of which she nearly dropped her pile of books, Gwen retiredlaughing from the Fourth Form to take her place and try her luck amongthe Seniors. 

CHAPTER II

The Gascoyne Girls

At fourteen and a quarter Gwen Gascoyne was at a particularlydifficult and hobbledehoy stage of her development. She was tall forher age, and rather awkward in her manners, apt at present to beslapdash and independent, and decidedly lacking in "that repose whichstamps the caste of Vere de Vere". Gwen could never keep still forfive seconds, her restless hands were always fidgeting or her feetshuffling, or she was twisting in her chair, or shaking back a looseuntidy lock that had escaped from her ribbon. Gwen often did her hairwithout the aid of a looking-glass, but when she happened to use onethe reflection of her own face gave her little cause for satisfaction. 

"I'm plain, and there's no blinking the fact, " she confessed toherself. "Winnie says I'm variable, and I can look nice when I smile, but I'm afraid no one would trouble to look at me twice. If only Iwere Lesbia now, or even Beatrice! People talk about the flower of afamily--well, I expect I'm the weed, as far as appearances go! Ihaven't had my fair share in the way of good looks. "

It certainly seemed hard that Nature, which had been kind to theGascoynes in that respect, should have dowered her brothers andsisters so liberally, and have left poor Gwen out in the cold. Herbright little face had an attraction all of its own, of which she wasquite unconscious, but she was entirely accustomed to stand asidewhile strangers noticed and admired her younger sister Lesbia. To doGwen justice, though she might lament her own plainness, it neverstruck her to be jealous of the others. She was intensely proud of thefamily reputation for beauty, and even if she could not includeherself among "the handsome Gascoynes", it certainly gave her areflected satisfaction to be aware of the epithet. 

"I'm like Daddy, " she said sometimes; "nobody ever calls him handsome, but he's a dear all the same--the dearest dear in the world!"

The Reverend Maurice Gascoyne was curate-in-charge of the church ofSt. John the Baptist in the little fishing village of Skelwick Bay, onthe coast of the North Sea. He was rich in the possession of sevenchildren, but there his luck ended, for his income, as is often thecase, was in exactly inverse ratio to the size of his family. 

"The fact is, we're as poor as church mice, " said Beatrice one day. "Indeed, I think we're poorer, because the mouse we saw in church lastSunday, that scared Winnie so, was very fat and sleek and prosperouslooking, and didn't bear out the old saying at all. "

For the last four years, ever since pretty Mrs. Maurice Gascoyne hadgently laid down the burden that had grown too heavy for her, Beatrice had been the clever, energetic "mother" of the establishment. She managed the house, and the children, and the one maid, and theparish, and her father, all included, with a business-like capacityfar in advance of her twenty years. She was a fine-looking girl, talland straight-limbed and ample, with blue eyes and dark brows, and aclear creamy skin, and that air of noble strength about her which theGreek sculptors gave to their statues of Artemis. Though she did herbest both for home and hamlet, Beatrice often chafed against thenarrowness of her limits. It was a sore point that she had beenobliged to leave school at sixteen, and devote herself to domesticpursuits, and while not regretting the sacrifice, she often lamentedthe two years lopped off her education. 

"I'm so behind, I never could go in even for the matric. Now, " shesighed sometimes. "If I could have realized my ambition, I'd havestudied for a lady doctor. "

Since the profession of medicine was utterly and entirely out of thequestion, Beatrice often consoled herself by planning that when thechildren were old enough to do without her, she would go as a nurse toa big London hospital, and rise to be a ward sister, or perhaps--whoknew?--even a matron. In the meanwhile her talent for administrationhad to confine itself within the bounds of the Parsonage and theparish, where it was apt to become just a trifle dictatorial andoverbearing. It is so hard for a young, keen, ardent nature, anxiousto set the world right, to remember that infinite patience must gohand in hand with our best endeavours, and that the time of sowing isan utterly different season from that of harvest. 

Between Gwen and Beatrice there was often friction. The formerresented being ordered about by a sister of only twenty, and wouldprove rebellious on occasion. Really, the two girls' dispositions weremuch alike, but Beatrice's early position of responsibility had turnedinto strength of character what was at present mere manifestation ofindependence and often bravado in Gwen. 

Winnie, a sweet-tempered, pretty girl of eighteen, had just been madean under-mistress at "Rodenhurst", Miss Roscoe's school, which she andGwen and Lesbia attended daily. Teaching was not at all Winnie'svocation, she hated it heartily, but as her services cancelled hersisters' school fees, she was obliged to accept the unwelcome drudgeryfor the sake of the help it gave to her father's narrow income. If itwas Beatrice's ambition to go out into the world and carve a careerfor herself, it was certainly Winnie's ideal to stop at home. She wasa born housekeeper, and loved sewing and cake-baking and jam-making, and dusting the best china, and gardening, and rearing poultry andducks. It seemed a great pity that she could not have changed placeswith her elder sister, but Beatrice's education had been stopped toosoon for her to be of any use as a teacher, while Winnie, though notclever, had been carefully trained in Rodenhurst methods. Fortunatelyshe had a very cheerful, sunny disposition, that was prone to make thebest of things, so she struggled along, taking Miss Roscoe's manysuggestions and reproofs so amiably that the Principal, often irateat her lack of capacity, had not the heart to scold her too severely. Of her own choice, I am afraid, Winnie would never have opened a book, but she managed to get up her subjects for her classes, and was aconscientious, painstaking mistress, if not a brilliant one. 

After Gwen came the beauty of the family, twelve-year-old Lesbia, adear, delightful, smiling, lovable little lazybones, usually at thebottom of her Form. Lesbia never attempted to work hard at school. Shescraped through her lessons somehow, generally with Gwen's help at home, and took life in a happy-go-lucky fashion, with as little trouble toherself as possible. Lesbia's chief virtue was an admirably calm andunruffled temper: she would laugh philosophically over things that madeGwen rage, and though she had not half the character of the latter, shewas a far greater general favourite. She was much petted at school, bothby her own Form and by the Seniors, for she had sweet, coaxing littleways, and a helpless, confiding look in her blue eyes that was ratherfascinating, and her lovely fair flaxen hair gave her the appearance ofa large wax doll, just new from a toy shop. Lesbia had one greatadvantage: she was always well dressed. She possessed a rich cousin ofexactly her own age, whose clothes were passed on to her. Irene grewrapidly, so her handsome frocks and coats were scarcely worn when theyreached Lesbia, and as Aunt Violet invariably sent them first to thecleaners, they would arrive wrapped in folds of dainty tissue paper, andlooking like new. It seemed rather hard that Lesbia should always be thelucky recipient of the parcels, and Beatrice, with a strict sense ofjustice, had often tried to adapt some of the things for Gwen. It wasquite impossible, however--Lesbia's neat, dainty little figure exactlyfitted into the clothes, while Gwen, tall and big-boned even for herextra two and a half years, was so many sizes too large that she had toresign all hope of "fineries", and content herself with plain blousesand navy-blue serge skirts that could be lengthened easily. Not thatGwen troubled much about dress at this period of her existence; indeedshe was apt to throw on her garments in a haphazard fashion that greatlyexcited Beatrice's wrath, and would raise a remonstrance even fromWinnie. Life was so full of different things, and so many freshinterests and new plans were crowding continually into her brain, thatshe never had time to think whether her tie was neatly knotted or herbelt properly fastened; it is a sad admission to make, no doubt, butthen Gwen was no ideal heroine, only a very faulty, impetuous, headstrong, human girl. 

Three little brothers completed the Gascoyne family--Giles, Basil, andMartin, aged respectively ten, nine, and five, bonny mischievousurchins, who were alternately Beatrice's pride and despair. By vigorousmeasures she managed to keep them in tolerably good order, but she couldnever be sure what pranks they would play next, and was generallyprepared for emergencies. She always had supplies handy of arnica, sticking plaster, and rags for cut fingers, and would toil awaypatiently mending long rents in small knickerbockers or darning holes instockings and jerseys. Giles and Basil went daily to a branchestablishment of Rodenhurst, kept by Miss Roscoe for boys under twelve;and Martin learnt his letters at home, and trotted about the house andparish in Beatrice's wake. He was a sweet little scamp, and the apple ofher eye, for she had brought him up from babyhood, but she sometimesfelt it would be an intense relief when he was old enough to go toschool with the others. 

For seven years the Gascoynes had lived at the little parsonage atSkelwick Bay. It was a small, low, creeper-covered place, built behinda sheltering spur of hill, to protect it from the fierce winter galesand the driving spray of the sea. Four latticed bedroom windows caughtthe early morning sun, and a stone porch shielded the front door, which opened directly into the sitting-room. There was nothing at allgrand about the house, but, thanks to Beatrice, it was neatly kept, and had an air of general comfort. All articles likely to be broken bysmall fingers were wisely put away, or placed in father's study, asanctum where no one might intrude without express permission; butbooks, paint boxes, &c. , were freely allowed, and each member of thefamily had a special shelf on which to keep his or her particularpossessions. Beatrice had many excellent rules, and though in theenforcement of these she was strict to the verge of severity, in themain she was just, and had her father's full sanction for herauthority. 

The garden at the Parsonage was a great joy, with its thick hedge offuchsias, and its beds of fragrant wallflowers, and its standard rosesgrowing among the grass, and its clumps of Czar violets under thesheltered wall. Here Winnie toiled early and late, getting upsometimes with the sun that she might put in an hour's work beforebreakfast, weeding, replanting, pruning, raking, and tying up. It waschiefly owing to her exertions that the show of flowers was so good, though Gwen was her ally in that respect, and even Lesbia gave alittle desultory help. There was a thick, bowery lime tree under whoseshade it was delightful to have tea in summer, or to lie reading bookson hot Sundays; and there was a fascinating corner of the old wall, which the girls called "the rampart", from whence it was possible tocommand an excellent view of the main road--a great conveniencesometimes to the younger ones, who would keep watch, and beat a hastyretreat if they saw an unwelcome visitor arriving, leaving Beatrice tooffer hospitality alone. 

Gwen was the worst sinner in this respect. She was bashful, and hatedto have to say "How do you do?" to callers. In spite of Beatrice'sefforts to train her in social ways, she would fly at the veryapproach of a flower-trimmed hat or a white parasol. 

"You scuttle off like a rabbit into its burrow, " said Beatriceindignantly on one occasion; "and if you're caught, you behave in sucha silly, awkward way that I'm ashamed of you. People will think youhaven't been properly brought up, and blame me. It's not my fault thatyou've got no manners. "

"I feel as if I don't know where to look when people speak to me, andas if my hands and feet were too big, " protested Gwen. "I can't helpshuffling and wrinkling up my forehead--I can't indeed! You'reawfully hard on me, Bee!"

"Perhaps she'll grow a little more accustomed to her hands and feetwhen she's older, " suggested Winnie, the peacemaker. 

"They're useful for catching chickens at present, and that ought to beenough for you, Win, " laughed Gwen. "You'd have lost those whiteLeghorns if I hadn't rescued them. "

Winnie was considered chief "henwife" at the Parsonage. She could notgive as much time to the poultry as she wished, and had to delegatemany of her duties to Beatrice, or Nellie, the maid, but neverthelessheld herself responsible for the welfare of her feathered flock. OnSaturdays she delighted to array herself in an overall pinafore andcarry out improvements in the hen-yard. Armed with hammer, nails, andpieces of wire netting, she would turn old packing-cases into chickencoops and nesting boxes, or make neat contrivances for separatingvarious fussy matrons with rival broods of chicks. Winnie was reallywonderfully handy and clever, and albeit her carpentry was naturallyof a rather rough-and-ready description, it served the purpose forwhich she designed it, and saved calling in the services of thevillage joiner, an economy which her father much appreciated. Winniewas determined to run her poultry systematically. She kept strictaccounts, balancing the bills for corn and meal against current marketprices for eggs and chickens, and being tremendously proud if her bookshowed a profit. On the whole she did well, for the fowls had a freerun on the common at the back of the house, and could thus pick upmuch for themselves. With the help of the poultry, and a goodvegetable garden, Beatrice was able to make her small housekeepingallowance supply the needs of the family, but there were no luxuriesat the Parsonage. The girls possessed few or none of the prettytrifles dear to their sex, their pocket money was scanty almost tovanishing point, and they had early learnt the stern lesson of "doingwithout things". Adversity may be a hard task-mistress, but she is anexcellent teacher in the school of life, and their Spartan upbringinghad given the Gascoynes a certain resourcefulness and grit ofcharacter that they might possibly have lacked in more affluentsurroundings. They were not a perfect family by any means, and hadtheir squabbles and their cross moods like many another; but on thewhole they were ready to give and take, make sacrifices for eachother, and to try day by day to live a little nearer to that wonderfulhigh standard that Father ever set before them, and which he himselffollowed so faithfully and truly. 

CHAPTER III

A False Step

The morning following Gwen's promotion to the Fifth Form was wet, oneof those hopelessly wet October days when the grey sky and thedripping trees and the sodden grass and the draggled flowers all seemto combine to remind us that summer, lovely, gracious summer, has gonewith the swallows and left her fickle stepsister autumn in her stead. It had been raining heavily all night, and it was pouring hard whenNellie placed the coffee pot and the porridge on the table and rangthe breakfast bell. 

"It's an atrocious, abominable morning!" grunted Gwen, peeringdisconsolately through the window into the damp garden. "It's sheercruelty to be expected to turn out and tramp two miles through themud. We oughtn't to have to go to school when it rains. "

"Wet at seven, fine at eleven!" chirped Beatrice at the coffee pot. 

"It's all very well for you to be cheerful and quote proverbs--youhaven't to go out yourself, Madam Bee!" grumbled Gwen. "I wonder howyou'd like it if--"

"Oh, Gwen, don't whine! Come and get breakfast, " interrupted Winnie. "It's five-and-twenty to eight, and I've a strong suspicion theclock's late. "

"It is, " remarked Lesbia calmly, pausing with her porridge spoonsuspended midway between plate and mouth. "Stumps put it back tenminutes last night when Father wasn't looking. I saw him. "

A chorus of united indignation followed her information, each memberof the family trying to bolt breakfast and scold the offender at thesame time. 

"We've only five minutes. Oh, you naughty boy!" shrieked Winnie. 

"I didn't want to go to bed--I meant to put it on again this morningfirst thing--I did, honest, " protested Giles, otherwise known as"Stumps". 

"Lesbia, why couldn't you say sooner?" fretted Gwen. 

"Only just remembered. "

"And the porridge is so hot I've burned my mouth!" wailed Basil. 

"You haven't a moment to waste!" urged Beatrice. "Have you all gotyour boots on? I shall tell Father what you've done, Giles, as soon ashe comes downstairs. "

Even the loss of ten minutes was a serious consideration to thosemembers of the Gascoyne family who were bound for school. Skelwick wassuch an out-of-the-way place that they had quite a journey to get toStedburgh, the seaside town where Rodenhurst was situated. First theyhad to walk two miles along a very exposed country road to the villageof North Ditton, where they could catch the motor omnibus that wouldtake them the remaining four miles into Stedburgh, and then there wasa further walk of at least ten minutes before they reached the school. The bus always started with the utmost promptitude, so it was a dailyanxiety to leave home punctually and not be obliged to run the lasthalf mile. On this particular morning there was more than the usualscramble to get off. At the last moment Gwen could not find hergaloshes, and remembered that she had broken the rib of her umbrellasome days before, and had forgotten to mention the fact and askBeatrice to have it mended. 

"You're the most tiresome girl!" scolded the harassed elder sister. "Why couldn't you tell me and I'd have sent it to Johnson's lastnight? Now I suppose I shall have to lend you mine, and very likelyyou'll go and break that too!"

"I don't want yours!" snapped Gwen, tucking her hair inside hermackintosh and putting on her "stormy-weather" cap. "I wouldn't risksmashing it for a five-pound note. I'll go without!" and snatching hersatchel of books she rushed after the others, who had already started. 

The rain was driving furiously, and the road was full of littlerunning rivers of yellow mud. The strong wind made Gwen's eyes smartand water, and she was obliged to hurry to make up for lost time; sowhen she arrived at North Ditton she was a breathless, rather pitifulobject, and most decidedly cross. The omnibus was so full that she wascompelled to take Lesbia on her knee and to sit wedged between a veryfat wheezy old farmer and a market gardener, who nursed a parcel ofplants. 

"It's rather fun, isn't it?" laughed Lesbia, graciously accepting therose that her neighbour offered her. (Somehow people always gavethings to Lesbia. )

"More fun for you than for me!" growled Gwen. "I wish you knew howheavy you are!"

A bad start does not make a good preparation for the rest of the day, and Gwen marched into the Fifth Form room that morning in noconciliatory frame of mind. She was quite prepared to be ill received, so she thought she would meet possible coldness by showing a defiantattitude. It was an extremely foolish move, for it brought about thevery state of affairs she anticipated. Several of the nicer girls inthe Form had half repented their wrath of yesterday, and were readynot only to treat her kindly, but to influence the others in herfavour. When they saw her enter, however, with a "don't care" scowlingair and walk to her desk, without even looking in their direction, they decided that she was an ill-conditioned, disagreeable girl, andthat they would not trouble their heads about her. Instead, therefore, of going and speaking to her as they had intended, they let herseverely alone. As a rule, if we go through life expecting slights anddislike, we get what we look for: the self-made martyr can find stakeand faggots waiting round every corner. Gwen raged inwardly at theneglect of her classmates, but she did not realize in the least thatit was partly her own fault. She sat all the morning with athundercloud on her face, hurrying out of the room at the interval andeating her lunch alone in a corner of the gymnasium. 

"How are you getting on in the Fifth?" whispered Lesbia, who ran upfor a moment to sympathize. 

"Badly, " groaned Gwen. "They're boycotting me. Of course the Fourthwon't have anything to do with me now; so I'm like Mahomet's coffin, swung between heaven and earth! It's not pleasant, I assure you. "

"I should think not. I wish I could do anything. "

"You can't. Go back and play basket-ball. "

It was not Rodenhurst etiquette for Seniors to talk to Juniors, soGwen, mindful even in her forlorn state of her new dignity as a memberof the Upper School, could not indulge in the luxury of a chat withLesbia. She wandered down the corridor, read the time sheets and theannouncements on the notice boards, peeped into several emptyclassrooms, and was glad for once when the bell rang. At one o'clockthings were no better. She was given a new place at the dinner-tableand had to sit between Rachel Hunter and Edith Arnold, both of whombehaved as if unaware of her presence, and talked to each other acrossher as though she were non-existent. When she asked for the salt(rather shortly, certainly) Edith only stared and did not pass it. Bythe end of the meal Gwen began to feel the situation was getting onher nerves. She had been fairly popular in the Upper Fourth, so thechange was the more unpleasant. 

"I'm not going to give in, though, " she thought. "I believe what theywant is to make me ask Miss Roscoe to move me down again. Well, they'll find themselves mistaken, that's all! I'll stay in the UpperSchool if nobody speaks to me till next midsummer, and if I have tostop up half the night slogging away at my work!"

"How cross that Gwen Gascoyne looks!" whispered Hilda Browne to IrisWatson. 

"Yes, she doesn't seem to want to know us, does she?"

"She needn't, I'm sure. I think she's horrid!"

It was still raining and impossible to go into the playground, so Gwenstrolled into the empty classroom, and for lack of anything else to dobegan arranging and rearranging the contents of her desk. She had notbeen there more than five minutes when the door opened and NettaGoodwin, one of her new form-mates, entered, humming a tune. Sheglanced at Gwen, went to her own desk, made a pretence of trying tofind a book, sat whistling for a moment or two, then finally turnedtowards Gwen. 

"Well, how do you like being a Senior?" she asked half mockingly. 

"Too soon to tell yet, " replied Gwen cautiously. "I shall know betterat the end of a week. "

"You've not had a very charming reception so far, have you? I saw howRachel and Edith were behaving at dinner. "

"I don't care!" snapped Gwen. "I don't want to talk to them, thanks!The Form can please itself whether it's friendly or leaves me alone asfar as I'm concerned. "

Netta whistled softly. There was a rather inscrutable expression onher face. 

"All the same I suppose you don't always want to go on being a kind ofleper and outlaw? Not very interesting, I should say, to come toschool every day and speak to nobody!"

Gwen was silent. She had no argument to advance. 

"They're annoyed with you just at present for being moved into ourForm, but they can't keep it up long. In a little while they'll feelaccustomed to you and you'll get on all right. Then the question is, are you going to belong to the Saints or the Sinners?"

"What do you mean?" asked Gwen. 

"We're all one or other here. We call Hilda Browne and Iris Watson andLouise Mawson and Rachel Hunter and Edith Arnold and a few more 'theSaints'. "

"Nothing very saintly about them that I can see!" sniffed Gwen. 

"Well, it depends on your standards. Perhaps they thought they behavedlike saints at dinner. "

"More like Pharisees! Which are you?"

Netta's brown eyes twinkled. 

"I leave you to guess!" she replied sagely. "I'm not stiff andstand-off like some of them are, at any rate. If you'd care to take awalk down the corridor, I'll go with you. "

A stroll with anyone was better than sitting alone in the classroom;it was still only two o'clock, and there was half an hour to getthrough before afternoon school began. Gwen was not averse toexploring the upper corridor, for as a Junior it had been forbiddenground to her. She and Netta went into the Sixth Form room, the SeniorFrench and German room, and even looked inside the teachers' room, finding nobody there. 

"Miss Roscoe's private sitting-room is at the end of the passage, "said Netta. "She's down in the library, so if you like to take a peep, you can. "

The spirit of curiosity strongly urged Gwen to see what aheadmistress's private study was like, and thinking themselvesperfectly safe, the two girls entered, and began eagerly to scan thepictures, the ornaments, the photographs, and the various objectswhich were spread about on desk and tables. It was a pretty, tastefulroom, with choice prints from the old masters in carved oak frames, and pots of ferns and flowers, and handsomely bound books, and curiosfrom foreign lands. The girls moved softly about, examining first onething and then another with increasing interest. 

"Oh, do look at this exquisite little case of butterflies! I never sawanything so perfect!" said Netta. 

Gwen was standing absorbed in contemplation of a stained-wood blotter. She wheeled round, and as she did so her elbow knocked a parcel thathad been placed on the corner of the desk, and sent it flying on tothe floor. There was a smashing sound like the breaking of china, andat that exact moment somebody entered the room. Hopelessly caught, thetwo girls turned to face the newcomer. It was not Miss Roscoe--thatwas one thing to be thankful for--but it was Emma, the housemaid, which was quite bad enough. She looked at them as if she knew herselfto be mistress of the situation, then waxed eloquent. 

"I should just like to know what you two's doing here?" she demanded. "You've no business in this room--none at all. And you've gone andsmashed that parcel as is only come five minutes ago from the chinashop. I could hear it break. My word! What will Miss Roscoe say tothis?"

"She mustn't know!" gasped Netta. "Emma, you must promise usfaithfully not to tell you've found us here. "

"Me not tell? And what for, please? Why should I screen you?"

"We shall get into such an awful scrape!" pleaded Gwen. 

"You should have thought of that before you came!"

"Oh, Emma!" urged Netta. "We can't, we daren't let Miss Roscoe know. She'd be so fearfully angry. She might even expel us!"

"And what am I to say about this parcel you've broken? You don'tsuppose I'm going to take the blame of that on my shoulders! No, thankyou!"

"The cat, " murmured Netta. 

"Cat, indeed!" repeated Emma scornfully. "That's too old a story totake in Miss Roscoe; besides which, there's not a cat in the house. She hates 'em. You'll just have to own up, and serve you both rightfor meddling. "

"Is it badly broken, I wonder?" sighed Gwen, feeling the unfortunateparcel carefully. "It seems to be a box. "

"Yes, but what's inside the box is smashed. You can hear the bitsrattle when you shake it, " returned Emma smartly. "It's her newafternoon tea set, I'll be bound. She told me she was going to orderone from Parker's. "

"There's Parker's name on the label, " agreed Gwen despondently. 

"Yes, and if you think--"

"Look here, I've got an idea, " interrupted Netta. "You said the boxonly arrived about five minutes ago, so Miss Roscoe can't possiblyknow that it's come yet. If we could get it taken back to the shopand ask Parker's to send some more, and we pay for it, she need neverknow. "

"A pretty idea!" snorted Emma. 

"Oh, it would be grand!" exclaimed Gwen, grasping at any way out ofthe dreadful predicament. 

"You'll help us, Emma, won't you?" entreated Netta. 

"Not I! It's none of my business. "

"But suppose it were worth your while? Wouldn't half a crown buy yousomething nice?"

"Nothing I'd care for. "

"Five shillings, then?"

Emma's face showed signs of yielding. 

"I don't want to get you into trouble if I can help it, " she repliedmore gently. "I dare say Parker's would replace the things if you waswilling to pay for them, and nothing need be said. I'm not one forwanting scenes, and a scene there'd be if Miss Roscoe found her setbroken. She's a sharp tongue, as I know to my cost. "

"Then, Emma, will you take away the box now, and hide it somewhere, and we'll meet you in the pantry at four o'clock, and you can give itto us, and we'll take it ourselves to Parker's, and ask them to sendsome more china to-night. We'll bring you the five shillings to-morrowmorning. It shall be a present from us both, and thank you so much forhelping us! You promise you won't tell? Well, that's a weight off ourminds! Come, Gwen, we'll scoot!"

CHAPTER IV

A Delicate Transaction

Gwen had stood by, listening to Netta's proposals, and offered noopposition. She was thankful to find any means of escape from theterrible prospect of braving Miss Roscoe's wrath. The Principal was astern, even a severe woman, who never made allowances or admittedexcuses, and greatly resented any liberties. How would she regard suchan extreme liberty as an unauthorized visit to her privatesitting-room, to say nothing of the accident to the tea service? Gwenshivered at the bare idea. She was aware that she and her sisters werereceived on rather special terms at Rodenhurst. Winnie's teachingscarcely compensated for the two younger ones' school fees, and didnot include the daily board for the three girls, which was given in byMiss Roscoe, who knew of Mr. Gascoyne's poor circumstances. For thisreason Gwen had been urged to work her hardest, so as to be a creditto her Form, and in some degree repay Miss Roscoe's generosity. ThePrincipal had shown an interest in her, particularly in relaxing anold-established rule in her favour, and moving her up right in themiddle of a term. If she were detected in such a grave breach ofdiscipline, Miss Roscoe might consider her unworthy of any furtherkindnesses, might even ask her father to take her away altogether fromRodenhurst. To take her away! Why, the world would come to an end! Athome she was already regarded as the troublesome one of the family, and if she suffered this disgrace, she could never hold up her headagain. Father--dear, patient, self-sacrificing Father--would begrieved and worried beyond expression; he hoped great things, sheknew, from her schooling, and how could she bear to disappoint him?

Then there was Beatrice, who always seemed ready to find fault, andthink the worst of her. She would almost as soon let Miss Roscoe knowas Beatrice! No, at all costs the episode of that afternoon must bekept a strict secret. She dared not confide it even to Winnie orLesbia. She must take the burden on her own shoulders, and get out ofthe scrape as best she could alone. Netta had assumed the leadershipof the affair, so to Netta she turned for counsel and comfort. 

"What's the next move?" she asked. 

"Why, we must go to Parker's directly school's over, and take theparcel with us. "

"I shall miss the bus!"

"You can't help that; you must catch the next. "

"I shall have to dodge Winnie and Lesbia. "

"Dodge them, then, and make up some excuse for missing the bus. Youcan say I kept you. "

"How much do you think the china will cost?"

"I haven't the least idea; it depends how much is broken. "

"Netta, you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"

"Tell! Am I likely to tell? No, you and I are in the same boat, and wemust shield each other. I wouldn't trust anybody in the school. Onenever knows how things are talked about and get round from the mostunlikely quarters. Whatever happens, this mustn't reach Miss Roscoe'sears. "

The motor omnibus started at 4. 20, and as a rule the Gascoynes hadquite a scramble to rush off and catch it. To-day Gwen managed toavoid Winnie and Lesbia, and waiting until they were safely off thepremises, she went with Netta to the pantry. Emma was not there, butthey found the parcel behind the door and appropriated it, Gwen hidingit carefully under her waterproof. Parker's china store was in theprincipal street of the town, nearly a quarter of an hour's walk fromRodenhurst. When the girls arrived there, several customers were inthe shop, so that they had to wait a little before anyone could attendto them. 

"You speak to him--I don't know what to say!" whispered Gwen, thrusting the parcel into Netta's hand, as an assistant at last cameto serve them. 

Netta had any amount of presence of mind, and did not at all object tobe spokeswoman. She rapidly explained that they had had an accident, and were anxious to replace some broken articles at their own expense. The shopman opened the box, and pulling out the shavings in which thechina was packed, laid the various pieces upon the counter. The girlswere aghast at the extent of the damage. Several cups were smashed toatoms, the teapot had lost its lid, and the cream jug its handle. 

"Have you any more like them?" asked Netta anxiously. 

"Fortunately we have, miss, " replied the assistant. "It is a patternwe usually keep in stock, and--yes, I can match them all. I can repackthe box and send it out by the six-o'clock van. "

Gwen heaved a great sigh of relief. Miss Roscoe would receive herparcel that night, and would be no wiser for what had happened. 

"We shall be very glad if you will do that, " she said. "And will youplease tell us what we have to pay extra?"

The man took the bill which had been enclosed in the box and rapidlyglanced over the items. 

"Let me see--teapot, cream jug, three cups, four plates--the sugarbasin is all right--ah! but this saucer is cracked! Sixteen and six, seventeen and nine--it will be exactly one pound two and sixpence, please. "

Gwen felt ready to sink through the floor. She had very little notionof the value of things, and could hardly believe that china cost somuch. She looked blankly and helplessly at Netta, who after a moment'spause met the emergency. 

"We haven't the money with us this afternoon, I'm afraid, but we'llbring it to-morrow without fail. Will that do?"

"Yes, thank you, miss, I dare say it will be all right if you give methe name. "

"Miss Gwen Gascoyne, " said Netta promptly. 

"At Rodenhurst, I suppose?"

"Yes. "

That ended the transaction, so the two girls left the shop. 

"Well, Gwen, my child, you've let yourself in for a nice little bill!"laughed Netta, when they found themselves in the street. 

"It's impossible! I can't pay it!" gasped Gwen, with hot tearstrickling down her cheeks. "What am I to do?"

"Turn along this quiet road immediately, and don't stand mopping youreyes in the middle of High Street! Everybody's staring at you. Ibelieve the policeman's going to ask if you're lost!"

And seizing her schoolmate by the arm, Netta hustled her away from theunwelcome attention which she was attracting. The road led to thepromenade, where the girls found an unoccupied bench, and sat down totalk matters over. 

"One pound two and sixpence!" ejaculated Gwen, with a sob between thewords. 

"And five shillings we promised Emma, so that makes twenty-seven andsix, " agreed Netta briskly. "Of course it was you who broke the china, so it's your business to pay for it, but I'll go shares in squaringEmma. "

"I can't--I can't ever pay it! Oh, I wish I was at the bottom of thesea!" wailed Gwen. 

"Don't be an idiot! It must be managed somehow. How much have you gotat home?"

"I've about fifteen shillings in my money-box. "

"Well, look here, I'll lend you ten, and that will just do it. We'lleach give Emma half a crown to make her hold her tongue, and we'llsettle up Parker, and then the thing will be done with. You may pay meback as soon as you can. "

"You're a white angel!"

"No, I'm not. I'm anything but a saintly person. I'm ready to help achum out of a hole, though. I'll bring the money to school with meto-morrow morning. And now, for goodness sake, do wipe your eyes, andput your hat on straight, and try and make yourself look respectableenough to walk down the promenade. I want to go home. "

"So do I, " said Gwen. "What's the time? I mustn't miss the next bus. "

"It's twenty past five. "

"Oh, horrors! And the bus goes at half-past! Can I possibly catch it?"

"I'll say goodbye if you're going to pelt along the promenade. I haterushing. "

"Goodbye! And thank you a hundred thousand times!"

It was only as Gwen was scurrying along the asphalted walk that itstruck her that, after all, Netta was getting rather easily out of thescrape. Of course she, Gwen, had knocked over the box of china, but itwas Netta who had taken her into Miss Roscoe's room, and who wastherefore in a sense responsible for the whole affair. Well, she wasglad enough to find help on any terms; she did not know how she wasgoing to repay Netta the money, but that might wait. It was sufficientfor the present that the tea set could be replaced without any fear ofdiscovery. She hurried breathlessly on, fearing to miss the omnibus;taking any short cuts she knew, and breaking into a run when shereached the Ditton Road. She could see the omnibus standing at itsstarting-place, and hoped it might be just possible to arrive in time. As she tore along the footpath, she noticed a boy a few yards in frontof her who was running equally quickly, or even faster. 

"I wonder if he's trying to catch it too?" she thought, and envied hislonger legs and freedom from hampering skirts. "Oh! it's actuallygoing! What a shame!"

The boy made a spurt, and shouted and whistled after the retreatingomnibus, but it was not of the slightest avail; neither the conductornor the driver took any notice. Realizing the hopelessness of hisefforts, the boy stopped and saw Gwen, who came panting up. 

"No use, it's gone too far!" he exclaimed. "It's an atrocious swindle!Those men never look. I suppose you were trying to catch it too?"

"Yes. I always go by the 4. 20. "

"So do I; so it's a nuisance to miss this. We're out of luck to-day. "

Gwen knew the boy quite well by sight, as for the last few weeks hehad been a fellow passenger morning and evening in the omnibus. He wasa jolly-looking fellow, about her own age or perhaps a little older, with a brown skin and very twinkling, brown eyes. He wore agrammar-school cap, and carried some books, so she could guess hisoccupation in Stedburgh. 

"I believe the next goes at half-past six, " he remarked ruefully. "Butyou won't catch me waiting for it I shall walk. "

"So shall I, " agreed Gwen. "Walking's better fun any time thanstanding waiting, " and she suited her action to her words. The boykept by her side, evidently not unpleased to have a companion to talkto. 

"You're one of the Gascoyne girls, aren't you?" he began. "I see thewhole lot of you every day cramming into the bus. Aren't you the onethey call Gwen?"

"I believe I am. "

"It's you who's generally left something behind, or lost something, orgot yourself into some kind of a pickle; then the one with her hairturned up scolds. "

"That's Winnie, " chuckled Gwen. 

"Those two youngsters are cheeky imps. Tell them they'll get theirheads smacked some day!"

"They often do at home. "

"Serve 'em right. I'm glad to hear it. How many more are there of youat home?"

"Only two. "

"Quite enough, I should think!"

"Thank you! You've asked all about my family, but you haven't told mewho you are. "

"Why, I thought you knew. My name is Dick Chambers. My father is Dr. Chambers, who's just taken Dr. Harrison's practice. "

"At North Ditton?"

"Yes, we only came six weeks ago. Dr. Harrison has gone to London. "

[Illustration: GWEN MEETS DICK]

"I knew Dr. Harrison, " said Gwen. "He came to see us when we hadscarlatina, and gave us some loathly medicine!"

"Dad can do a little in that line!" laughed Dick. "He once made medrink asafoetida when I was a kid, to cure me of sampling bottles inthe surgery. "

"Is it nasty?"

"It smells like a defunct rat, so you can imagine the taste. "

"Ugh!"

"He doesn't give such bad things to his patients, though. There's somequite decent stuff in the dispensary, and sometimes the bottles arecoloured pink, especially if they're for girls. I'm going to be adoctor when I grow up. "

"I suppose you'll help your father. Have you any brothers andsisters?"

"Not a single one. "

"Oh, I should think that's rather slow!"

"I don't find it so. There's always plenty to do. "

"Do you like North Ditton?"

"Oh, yes, pretty well! It's nicer than Essington, where we livedbefore. "

"Do you like the Grammar School?"

"Fairly. The chaps are rather a rotten set, and the Head'sunspeakable. "

Chatting thus, Gwen found the four miles to North Ditton wonderfullyshort ones, but when she had said goodbye to her new friend, and wastrudging along the road to Skelwick by herself, she had time for manyunpleasant reflections. At one blow this afternoon, she had sacrificednot only all the money in her savings box, but had got into debt aswell--a debt which she had no present prospect of paying. It was mostaggravating to have to empty her private bank; the contents were theaccumulation of several little gifts that had been sent by her unclesand aunts on her last birthday, and even so far back as lastChristmas. How would she explain, if Beatrice asked what had become ofher money? She groaned as she splashed, recklessly through the puddlesleft by the morning's rain. She could foresee many difficulties ahead, especially at Christmas time. 

The family had finished tea when she reached home, and Beatrice, grownuneasy at her absence, greeted her with upbraidings. 

"Where have you been, Gwen? Why didn't you come with the others?Winnie nearly lost the bus with going back to look for you. You knowquite well you mustn't stay behind like this. Answer me at once! Wherewere you?"

"I went along the promenade with Netta Goodwin, then I missed the 5. 30and had to walk all the way home. That's where I've been, and you mayscold as much as you like--I don't care. "

"Oh, Gwen!" exclaimed Winnie. 

"I don't. I'm not going to be ordered about by Beatrice, and treatedas if I were a baby. I'm surely old enough to manage my own affairs!"

Gwen was tired out with her six-mile tramp, and hungry, and verymiserable, or I think she would not have talked in so lawless andfoolish a strain. 

Beatrice gazed at her in amazement. Gwen had often been naughty, buthad never before ventured thus to wave the flag of defiance. 

"I shall have to get Father to speak to you, " she replied gravely. "He's gone over to Hethersedge to take the temperance meeting. Hestarted at five o'clock. You'd better have tea now. Nellie has madeyou some more, in the little blue pot, and we kept you a potato cake, though you don't deserve it. Father will be very astonished and sorrywhen I tell him what you've said. "

Gwen ate her meal with a big lump in her throat. She had not meant torebel openly, but she had lost her temper, and the words had flashedout. Beatrice's threat alarmed her. Through all the tangled skein ofGwen's character there ran, like a thread of pure gold, the intensepassionate love for her father, and the desire to preserve his goodopinion. She could not bear to see the grieved look that came into hiseyes when he was forced to reprove her. What indeed would he think ofher when he heard Beatrice's account? She pushed the potato cake away, feeling as if she could not swallow a morsel. 

Beatrice was putting Martin to bed. Better follow her now, and try topatch up peace. She ran upstairs and met her sister coming out of thelittle fellow's bedroom, candle in hand. 

"Bee! I'm awfully sorry for what I said just now! I didn't really meanit I can't think what possessed me!" gulped Gwen. 

"I try to do my best for you all. It's hard work sometimes to beeldest, " said Beatrice, and there was a quiver in her voice too. "Ifonly Mother were here. "

"Don't!" said Gwen huskily. "I miss her so dreadfully still. Oh, Bee!If only you wouldn't tell Father about this!"

"If I don't, will you promise faithfully always to come straight homefrom school with Winnie and Lesbia, and never go anywhere withoutasking?"

"On my honour!"

"Then I won't trouble him. He's enough worries, poor darling, withoutadding any more to them! I only wish I could save him some of those healready has!"

Early next morning, long before Lesbia was awake, Gwen got up veryquietly, and unlocked her savings box. It seemed dreadfully hard tohave to take her treasured fifteen shillings; pocket money was such ascarce article at the Parsonage that she did not know when she wouldhave the chance of accumulating so much again. There were only twothreepenny bits and a penny left to rattle when she shook the box, soshe sighed ruefully as she locked it, and put it back in its place onthe top shelf of the bookcase. She hoped Netta would not forget tobring the half-sovereign she had promised to lend, though how the loanwas ever to be repaid she could not imagine. For to-day it seemedenough if she had avoided Miss Roscoe's anger, and spared casting anadded worry on Father's already overburdened shoulders. 

Netta was faithful to her word; she came to school with both theten-shilling piece and the half-crown which was to be her share of the"hush money" for Emma. The two girls held a long whispered conferencetogether during the interval. 

"I can't possibly go and pay Parker's myself, " said Gwen. "You've noidea what a row I got into last night for missing the bus. Winnie'llkeep an eye on me to-day at four o'clock, I can assure you. Could yougo?"

"Very sorry, but I've got to go straight home too. Some cousins arecoming to tea, and I have to ask Miss Evans to let me out of thedrawing class ten minutes earlier. Why not get Emma to go? We shallhave to see her to give her her tip. "

"A good idea, " said Gwen. "Emma understands all about it. "

They found the housemaid when she was helping to lay the tables fordinner, and managed to draw her aside for a private talk. 

"Did the fresh china come last night?" they asked eagerly. 

"Oh, yes! it came all right, and Miss Roscoe never said a word, so youmay think yourselves lucky, " replied Emma. 

"Here's the little present we promised you, " said Netta, slipping thefive shillings into her hand. 

"I hardly like taking it!" protested Emma, though she popped ithastily into her pocket all the same. 

"Could you do something more for us?" begged Gwen. "Will you call atParker's and pay for the broken china? Here's the money--it's onepound two and six. Neither Netta nor I can possibly go. "

"Oh, yes, I don't mind doing that!" returned Emma. "It's my night outthis evening, and I shall be down High Street, so I can easily call atParker's on my road. They don't close till eight o'clock. "

"And you promise you'll never breathe a single word to anybody aboutthis?"

"Not likely!" declared Emma, as she turned away to finish laying hertable. 

"Well, I'm thankful that's done with, " thought Gwen. "It might havebeen an awkward affair, and I've come out of it uncommonly well. Ifeel as if I'd laid a ghost, and popped a stone on its grave. "

It was all very well for Gwen to congratulate herself, but she quiteforgot that ghosts have an awkward habit sometimes of disregardingtombstones, and rising from their graves to haunt those who haveinterred them. The matter of the broken china was not to be so easilydisposed of as she had imagined, and though for the present her secretseemed safe, there was trouble ahead for her in plenty. 

CHAPTER V

Trouble in the Fifth

The direct result of Gwen's transaction about the china was to flingher into the arms of Netta Goodwin. With such a secret between them itwas impossible not to be friendly, and though Netta was hardly anideal chum, there seemed no choice in the matter. Moreover, she wasthe only one in the Fifth who had offered advances; the other girls, still indignant at the promotion of a Junior, turned the coldshoulder. This unfortunate intimacy caused Gwen to be banned the more. 

"I see Gwen Gascoyne has taken up with Netta Goodwin, " said HildaBrowne. 

"Then that stamps her, " replied Edith Arnold. "I wouldn't touch Nettawith a pair of tongs myself. I thought better of the Gascoynes!"

Netta was a type of girl that can be found in every school and almostevery Form. Rather deficient in moral fibre, and badly trained athome, her influence was always on the wrong side. She was cleverenough, as a rule, just to avoid getting into open trouble with theauthorities, but under the surface she was a source of disturbance. She had a certain following of gigglers and slackers, who thought herescapades funny, and were ready to act chorus to her lead, and thoughshe had never done anything specially outrageous, her reputation atheadquarters was not good. Every teacher realized only too plainlythat Netta was the firebrand of the Form, and that while she mightpreserve a smug exterior it was really she who was responsible for anyoutbreaks of lawlessness among the others. 

As Junior Mistress of the Fifth no one had more reason to be aware ofthis than Winnie Gascoyne. Teaching was uphill work to Winnie. She hadnot Beatrice's commanding disposition and capacity for administration, consequently it was the more difficult for her to keep order andenforce rules. She did her conscientious best, but girls easily findout a governess's weak point, and at present Netta was trying how farshe could go. "Ragging Miss Gascoyne" was a favourite pastime of hers, and one which afforded much sport to her applauders, if not to thevictim of her jokes. 

A few mornings after Gwen's introduction to the Fifth there was aclass for memory map drawing with the assistant teacher. Each girl wassupposed to come prepared to make a map of India, and to mark in alarge number of places, a fairly difficult task, and one over whichmany of them grumbled in unison. 

"It's not fair! It takes such heaps of time to go over it at home, onehasn't a second for anything else!" wailed Minna Jennings. 

"I'd a raging headache last night, and my mother said she thoughtRodenhurst was getting too much for me, " bleated Millicent Cooper. 

"Poor frail flower! You look as if you'd wither at a breath! Betterpack you off to a sanatorium!" laughed Netta. 

"And you to a lunatic asylum, you mad thing! Don't you ever getheadaches with all this over-swatting?"

"No, my child, for I know a dodge or two! N. G. Is no infant in arms, I assure you. "

"Deign to explain, O commander of the faithful!" begged Annie Edwards. 

"Well, as I told you, I'm up to a thing or two, and I flatter myself Iknow just exactly how to tackle Grinnie. "

"Who's Grinnie?" asked Gwen rather sharply. 

The others roared. 

"My sweet babe, my dear ex-Junior, let us initiate you into theshibboleths of the Fifth! Yes, Seniors indulge in their littlenicknames as well as the Lower School, though perhaps we are rathermore cultured in our choice of them. Be it known to you then that ourrespected Head, vulgarly called The Bogey by ill-trained Juniors, isamong our elect set yclept Lemonade, partly owing to her habit offizzing over, and partly to a certain acid quality in her temper, otherwise hard to define. Miss Douglas, our honoured Form mistress, being a canny Scot, goes by the familiar appellation of Thistles, intended also to subtly convey our appreciation--or shall I saydepreciation?--of her prickly habit. "

"And Grinnie?" continued Gwen. 

"Your sister, by her perpetual smile, courted the title. "

"It's no good exploding, Gwen!" said Annie Edwards. "If you've got asister who's a teacher you'll just have to hear her called nicknames. You don't suppose we're going to shut up on your account?"

"And you needn't go sneaking, either, or it'll be the worse for you, "added Minna Jennings. 

"We'd soon know who'd told tales, " snapped Millicent Cooper. 

"Peace, turbulent herd!" said Netta, holding up her hand. "Our friendGwen, being of a sensible disposition, and a lover, like ourselves, ofall wholesome jests, fully realizes the exigencies of her peculiarsituation. Though in the seclusion of her home she may be bound bymany natural ties, family obligations cease entirely in the classroom. If her sister is a mistress, she is a pupil, and therefore bound toside with her Form through all those trials of tact known as 'thickand thin'. Have I not put the thing in a nutshell, O Gwendolen mine?"

Gwen could not help laughing, for there was undoubted truth in Netta'sargument. Winnie would, she knew, treat her with the utmostimpartiality, probably even more strictly, owing to theirrelationship. It would certainly never do if she were to be regardedas a sneak in the Form, ready to report misdoings and make mischief;such a character would be intolerable to her. Winnie must fight herown battles, and she would throw in her luck with her peers. 

"You needn't be afraid of me!" she protested. "I'd be the very last toblab; and I like fun as well as anybody. "

"I knew it, oh, altogether-wise-in-judgment! Have I not proved thee?"returned Netta, with a meaning look in her eyes which only Gwenunderstood. "Now, having established thy reputation, I will return tomy original thingumgigs. "

"Oh, Netta, stop being a lunatic, and tell us how you mean to tackleGrinnie!" interposed Minna. 

"Well, my little dears, it's extremely simple, but a work of geniusall the same. Genius always is simple, I believe! Behold my mappingbook with its virgin page. Behold also this spotless piece of blottingpaper. I turn it over, and hey, presto! a transformation. Here's mymap, nicely done in pencil, with all the names marked. Nothing to dobut copy it, you see. At the least approach of danger I turn it withits most innocent side up. "

The girls sniggered their admiration. Gwen could not approve, but shedid not protest. It was not her business to preach, so she toldherself. As long as she did her own work honestly, she could not beginher career in the Fifth by assuming the very character she had justdenied. Minna and Annie, inspired by Netta's brilliant idea, werecopying the map on to pieces of blotting paper as fast as they could. 

"It wouldn't be a bad plan to trace it the wrong way, and then rub itoff like a transfer, " suggested Millicent. 

"Just a little too clever, most astute one! Grinnie comes round tolook, and she'd think you'd got on too quickly, and want to know thereason why. You're bright, Millicent Cooper, but you're notfar-seeing. "

"You'll get caught yourself some time, " said Millicent. 

"True, O Queen! But I'll have somewhat in the shape of a run first, "laughed Netta. 

Gwen felt rather indignant as she began her map drawing. She hatedcheating, and it seemed very unjust that Netta and the others shouldwin credit for what was not fairly their own work. 

"Winnie's not half sharp enough, " she thought. "If it were Beatrice, now, there isn't a girl in the room would dare to try any tricks. "

Possibly even Winnie had her suspicions. She kept a watchful eye onthe Form, and made an occasional tour round the desks. Netta wasextremely cautious, but all the same her attention to her blottingpaper was rather conspicuous. 

"Netta Goodwin, hand me your mapping book!"

Netta started in some confusion at the abrupt order, and dropped bothmapbook and blotting paper on to the floor. Gwen, equally startled, moved her hand hastily and sent her book spinning after the other. Itwas a complete accident, but one by which Netta did not hesitate toprofit. Under the shelter of the desk she rapidly substituted Gwen'spiece of blotting paper for her own, then passed up the book with anair of sangfroid truly heroic in the eyes of Annie, Minna, andMillicent. Miss Gascoyne examined the pages carefully, but findingnothing incriminating, supposed she had been mistaken. Netta might bethe chief sinner of the Form, certainly, but she was not invariably atfault. 

"She thought I was as innocent as Mary's little lamb!" laughed thatdamsel afterwards. "You were a trump, Gwen, to help me. It was a smartnotion of yours to drop your book too. You did it so promptly!" Thenputting her arm round Gwen's neck she whispered: "I helped you whenyou were in a tight hole, and I'm glad to see you're going to stand byme. I shall always count upon you in future. "

So thus it happened that almost in spite of herself Gwen becameNetta's ally, pledged to support her on all occasions. She was afraidto risk a quarrel lest Netta should press for the return of the tenshillings she had lent. The debt felt a millstone round her neck, fromwhich there was no immediate chance of relief. Netta's particularclique of friends, proving Gwen safe, included her in their specialset, a compromising arrangement which seemed nevertheless inevitable. The girls did not really mean much harm, but they were silly andflippant, and enjoyed evading rules simply for the fun of the thing. Netta loved to show off before the others, and because she found MissGascoyne an easier victim than Miss Douglas, she kept most of hersallies for the junior teacher. She could estimate to a nicety thefine distinction between giving trouble and open defiance. She neveractually overstepped the line, but she contrived to make matters veryunpleasant for poor Winnie. It was her boast that she could alwaysraise a spark out of Miss Gascoyne, and her admirers were ready totitter in sympathy. 

Winnie, mindful of her position as teacher, never mentioned schoolaffairs to Gwen; but one day Beatrice tackled the latter on thesubject. 

"I hear you've struck up a friendship with Netta Goodwin, " she began. "I'm very surprised, for she doesn't seem a nice sort of girl. "

"She's the only one who's been kind to me, " returned Gwen, up in armsat once at Beatrice's tone. 

"Indeed! Well, I wouldn't be too much with her if I were you. I'mafraid she's anything but desirable. "

"Who said I was much with her? Has Winnie been telling tales aboutme?"

"Don't be nasty, Gwen. You know Winnie never tells. "

"There's no particular harm in Netta, " protested Gwen, taking up thecudgels for her schoolmate out of sheer contrariness. "She's onlyrather lively and funny. I suppose that's no great crime. "

"Are you sure Father would like her?"

"Dad doesn't know her, so I can't pretend to say what he'd think ofher, " retorted Gwen, shuffling out of the matter with what she knewwas a lame excuse. 

CHAPTER VI

A Casting Vote

Gwen had not been prepared to find the Fifth exactly a bed of roses, therefore she was hardly surprised at the thorns which beset her newpath. In spite of the extra teaching from Miss Woodville, she foundthe work of the Form extremely difficult, especially in mathematics. There was a whole book of Euclid theorem which she had not beenthrough, and the consequence was that every other problem had somelittle point proved by a theorem of which she had never heard. It wasa most decided stumblingblock. It is possible to sit and look at aproblem for hours without getting any further if there is just onestatement of whose existence one is not aware. More than once Gwen hadto hand in a blank page, and felt very humiliated at the meaningglances which passed between Rachel Hunter and Edith Arnold. Neitherof these was yet reconciled to Gwen's presence in the Form. Rachel, mindful of her own delayed promotion to the Upper School, persisted inregarding her as an "intruding kid", and Edith could not forgive herintimacy with Netta Goodwin. Manifold small slights and snubs fell toGwen's share, and though she affected to make light of them, theyhurt all the same. She knew that under happier auspices she might havebeen friendly with Hilda Browne, Iris Watson, Louise Mawson, andseveral others of whom Father would have approved, and whom, with hisentire sanction, she might have invited occasionally to the Parsonage. She was aware that she was in the worst set in the Form, and that notone of her new chums would pass muster if judged according to her homestandards. 

"I can't ever ask them, that's all, " she declared. "Annie's giggleswould give Beatrice a fit, Millicent puts on side horribly, Minnawould probably make fun of everything, Claire Harris is absolutelyvulgar, and as for Netta--no! Dad mustn't see Netta on any account. "

Another not unexpected trouble had fallen to Gwen's share. As a memberof the Upper Fourth she had, at the beginning of the term, been chosenJunior Basket-ball Captain, to arrange Lower School team games andmatches, and she had worked very hard to get things going. On herpromotion, however, it had been a greatly discussed point whether sheshould resign or finish the season. Some of the Upper Fourth, knowinghow much was due to Gwen's exertions, had been anxious for her toretain her post, but on the whole the popular verdict was against her. To Gwen's disgust, her old friends, Eve Dawkins and Alma Richardson, were the loudest in her disfavour, and it was chiefly owing to theireloquence that she was requested to resign. She had been proud of hercaptaincy, and to give it up was a wrench. There seemed nothing at allin her new Form to compensate for the loss, and sometimes she wishedheartily that she had never been moved. 

The present excitement in the Fifth was a "Literary and DramaticClub", the members of which intended to act a piece at Christmas. Itwas a rather cliquish society, worked with more favour than fairness, and was principally among those girls whose homes lay near to theschool. 

"They stay behind at four o'clock to rehearse, " explained Netta. "It'sreally only among about half a dozen. "

"Are you in it?" queried Gwen. 

"I, my dear child? Hardly! You don't imagine the high and mighty IrisWatson would ask yours truly? Saints and sinners don't mix in thisForm, if you please!"

"Do you mean to tell me the whole thing is in the hands of Iris and afew others?"

"With your usual astuteness you've hit the nail on the head. "

"But that's monstrously unfair!" exclaimed Gwen indignantly. "ADramatic Club ought to be for the whole Form. Everybody ought to havean innings, in the name of common justice. "

Netta shrugged her shoulders. 

"I don't want to act with Iris and Edith and Louise, thank you! Apleasant performance it would be! They may keep their precious pieceto themselves, so far as I'm concerned. "

"But that's not the point, " persisted Gwen. "It's the fairness of thething I'm talking about. One set has no right to monopolizeeverything. "

"It is sickening, certainly. "

"It's worse than sickening, it's intolerable, and I'm going to make astand against it. "

"You can try if you like, but you needn't expect success. "

When Gwen had a cause to champion, she was ready for a fight, even onthe losing side. One of her characteristics was a strong sense ofjustice, and here, she considered, was a distinct case of oppression. She thought over her plan of campaign, and decided that she would askto be admitted to the Dramatic Club. Next morning, accordingly, sheapproached the five or six girls who constituted that society. 

"Want to join our Dramatic Club!" exclaimed Louise Mawson almostincredulously. "I dare say you do!"

"But you won't!" said Hilda Browne quickly. 

"Cheek!" ejaculated Rachel Hunter. 

"Why shouldn't I join?"

"On the other hand, why should you?"

"Because a society ought to be open to the whole Form, and not justkept amongst a few. We didn't manage things like that in the UpperFourth. "

"How very kind of you, fresh from the Juniors, to come and give usSeniors a lesson in managing our affairs! Perhaps you'd like to bePresident? Would that content you?" enquired Hilda Brownesarcastically. 

"I don't want to be President, but I claim the right to have some sayin the matter. The thing ought to be properly constituted, and everygirl in the Form ought to vote for officers. "

"Well, of all cool proposals!"

"Look here, Gwen Gascoyne, you need suppressing!"

"She's not worth noticing!"

It was only what Gwen had expected, but she felt she had at any rateopened fire. She did not mean to retire vanquished after a firstattempt. She now directed her energies to another quarter. Shecanvassed the entire Form, asking each girl separately if she did notconsider the Dramatic Club ought to be put upon a general basis. Everybody, except those who were already members, agreed. Many hadthought the present arrangement unfair, and had grumbled loudly, though nobody had had the initiative to start a revolt. Now JoanMasters and Elspeth Frazer took the matter in hand seriously, tackledthe clique, and argued the question. 

"You may run a private club if you like for your own amusement, " saidElspeth, "but if you're going to call it 'The Fifth Form Dramatic', and give a performance before the other Forms at Christmas, then itmust be a fair and open thing. Everyone must be eligible formembership, and officers should be chosen by ballot. "

"Half of you wouldn't be able to join, " declared Hilda Browne. 

"That's our own lookout. The point is that we ought to be able to doso if we want. If you persist in keeping it all to yourselves, you mayact without an audience, for none of us will come to see you, andwe'll tell the other Forms what the quarrel is. "

"I know they'd back us up, " said Joan Masters. 

Very unwillingly the clique gave way. They knew they had no justground for their position, but they had hoped it would not be calledin question. 

"It's all the fault of Gwen Gascoyne, with her Lower School notions, "said Rachel Hunter. 

"She needn't think she's going to act!" asserted Edith Arnold. 

"Don't want to!" rapped out Gwen, who happened to overhear. "I shouldmiss the bus if I stayed behind after four. I only wanted to seethings made fair and square. "

Though the new arrangements were really owing to Gwen's enterprise, nobody was willing to accord her any thanks. Joan Masters and ElspethFrazer received all the credit for having righted the wrong; andthough a few might remember that Gwen had started the movement, theywere almost ready to agree with Rachel Hunter that it was ratherpushing of an ex-Junior to have taken so much upon herself. They hadnot yet forgiven her translation to the Fifth, and only the utmosthumility on her part would have reconciled them. Humility wascertainly not Gwen's characteristic, so she still went by the epithetof "that cheeky kid" in the Form. 

"So much for their gratitude, " confided Gwen to Lesbia. "I don't wantto act, but some of those who have got into the play might at leastacknowledge what I've done for them. "

"They seem a hateful set!" sympathized Lesbia. 

"Detestable!" said Gwen with unction. 

One thing had not been settled by the Dramatic Society, and that wastheir choice of a President. Names were canvassed freely in the Form, and finally Hilda Browne and Elspeth Frazer were put up as candidates. Voting was to be by ballot during the interval, but while the paperswere being given out Gwen bolted. She was feeling cross and forlorn, and sick of the whole affair. 

"I don't mind who's chosen President, " she thought "It makes nodifference to me. They may elect whom they like. "

So she went a solitary little walk round the playground, whistling atune, and trying to look as if she didn't care about anything. She hadnot been there very long before she saw Betty Brierley and Ida Youngsignalling to her from the gymnasium door. She took no notice of theirbeckonings, whereupon they ran after her, and seizing her one by eacharm, began to drag her towards the house. 

"You're wanted most particularly, Gwen Gascoyne!" said Bettyexcitedly. 

"We've been sent to fetch you quick!" chimed in Ida. 

"Hello! Hands off!" cried Gwen, dragging herself from their grasp. "What do you want with me, I should like to know?"

"It's the others who want you. "

"What for? Didn't know I was so popular!"

"You've not voted for a President yet. "

"No, and I don't mean to, either. "

"But, Gwen, you must! We've taken the ballot, and the votes areexactly even. You've got the casting vote!"

"Have I, indeed? No, thank you! It's rather too great an honour!"

"But look here, Gwen, it's the only way to decide it. We've got tochoose either Elspeth or Hilda. "

"Then you may fight it out amongst you. You don't suppose, when you'veall voted by ballot, that I'm going to take the responsibility of acasting vote. It's a most unfair proposal. Why, the rejected candidateand all on her side would never forgive me!"

"We might have the ballot again, " suggested Betty. "Then you need onlyput your cross. "

"As if everybody wouldn't know who was responsible for the extracross! I might as well write Gwen Gascoyne on my paper at once! It'sno use pulling my arm; I'm not coming in to be made a cat's paw. Youmay go and tell the others so if you like. "

Betty and Ida departed, grumbling loudly at Gwen's"unaccommodatingness", as they called it, and Gwen stayed in theplayground until the bell rang, fuming with indignation. Every freshlittle episode seemed to serve to make her more of an alien in theForm than ever. But here her decision was absolutely justifiable; notone of the girls would have cared to accept the unenviable role whichthey had wished to thrust upon her. Perhaps for that very reason theywere all the more annoyed at her action. She was received with blacklooks when she re-entered the classroom. Elspeth Frazer whisperedsomething to a friend, and turned away. Gwen could not quite hear, butit sounded painfully like "beast!"

"Have they settled it?" she asked Netta. 

"Yes; Elspeth and Hilda drew lots, and Hilda won. I'm fearfully sorryshe did. Elspeth says it's all your fault, and that you ought to havevoted for her when you'd made such a fuss about the clique. "

"Would you have given a casting vote yourself?"

"Well, no; but if you'd only stayed and voted by ballot like everyoneelse, then nobody would have known who'd given the odd one. It wasmost stupid of you to rush away. You're rather an idiot, GwenGascoyne!"

"'_Et tu, Brute!_ Then fall, Cæsar!' I'm like the old man and his assin Æsop; I seem to end by pleasing nobody. "

"Do you wish to compare yourself with the old man or the quadruped, mychild? The latter's the more apt, certainly!"

"Oh, good night!" said Gwen, who was getting the worst of it "I wishsometimes I'd never come into your wretched Form. "

"You'd be far more at home among the Juniors!" snapped Netta, ratherout of temper. 

A few days after this was the Rodenhurst Annual Distribution ofPrizes. It was always held in the beginning of November, rather anunusual date, to be sure, but Miss Roscoe found it convenient in manyways to have it in the middle of the autumn term. It gave plenty oftime to receive examiners' reports, and to chronicle successes in theJuly examinations, but on the other hand it did not interfere withChristmas celebrations. 

The function took place in the Town Hall at Stedburgh, and there wasinvariably a large gathering of parents and friends. To the wholeschool it seemed an important occasion, and both Gwen and Lesbia werefull of excitement when the afternoon arrived. 

"Not that I need alarm myself that I shall be called upon to walk upand receive a prize!" said Lesbia. "Never got one in my life, andnever shall!"

"You might get the Sewing or the Holiday Competitions, " said Gwen, trying to be encouraging. 

"No fear! One genius is enough in a family! I'll go prepared to clapyou!"

All the girls wore white dresses and blue hair ribbons, and made quitean imposing array as they sat in the central aisle of the large roomat the Town Hall. 

"There seem to be far more of us when we're in white!" said Gwen. "Wedon't look half so many in the lecture hall at school. Have a fewlittle angels crept in unawares?"

"You're not one of them, at any rate, " laughed Netta, who was sittingnext to her. 

To Gwen the great feature of the occasion was that Father was seatedon the platform, in company with several other clergymen and theMayor, who was to distribute the prizes. Beatrice was amongst theaudience, and had brought Martin with her, and Giles and Basil hadcome with the Boys' contingent. All her family were present, and ifshe were to get a prize, how pleased they would be!

The proceedings began with the usual speeches from the chairman andothers. Gwen had heard these every year, and they were always prettymuch on the same theme. It is hard to be original at prize-givings, and the gentlemen who had been asked to "say a few words" might beforgiven if their remarks were somewhat hackneyed. Miss Roscoe readthe examiners' report on the school, and the successes in theMatriculation and the Senior and Junior Oxfords. These the girls knewalready, so, though they clapped heartily, it did not cause muchexcitement. Everyone was waiting in suspense for the prize list. 

Miss Roscoe always began with the lowest Form, so the first to walk upto the platform was a small kindergarten child, who had won honoursfor "general improvement". Neither Giles nor Basil had any luck; theywere too erratic to be serious students, but when it came to the turnof the Middle Second, Lesbia Gascoyne was awarded the prize for plainsewing. A perfect storm of clapping greeted pretty Lesbia as shereturned down the hall to her place. She was a tremendous favourite atRodenhurst, and Seniors and Juniors alike applauded. It was the firsttime she had ever distinguished herself in any way, and though it wasonly for plain sewing, the girls were ready to give her an ovation. Atlast the Upper Fourth was reached, and Gwen knew that as she had takenher exams with her old Form (the Middle Fourth it had been in July)her name would be still on that list. 

"First prize for Mathematics, Gwen Gascoyne, " read Miss Roscoe. 

Gwen's heart thumped, for a moment she did not move, till Netta gaveher an admonishing push, then she walked up the hall. The Mayor handedher a volume of Coleridge's poems, handsomely bound in calf, andemblazoned with the school arms; he smiled pleasantly as he did so, and added a word of compliment. Gwen murmured "Thank you", and turnedaway. Father was clapping his loudest on the platform, and there was anervous little applause from the rest of the family and from Netta, but that was all. Not a single girl in either Gwen's old Form or hernew one gave her the least sign of appreciation. The colour flamedinto her face as she made her way back to her seat. It is hard at anytime to be unpopular, but it is a cruel thing when the lack of favouris displayed before a public audience. Gwen stuck her nose in the air, and put on the most defiant, don't care expression she could assume, but she felt the slight deeply, especially when she heard the heartyreception given to Iris Watson, who had won the Languages medal. 

"Never mind, childie!" said Mr. Gascoyne, when at "good night" timethat evening, in the safe sanctuary of Father's study, she broke down, and burst out crying; "you did your best, and you deserved your prize. That's the main thing!"

"I shall hate the prize now!" sobbed Gwen. "I can't bear to look atit; it will always remind me of this horrid afternoon. Why should theyhave been so nasty to me? They clapped Lesbia!"

"Gwen, you're not jealous?" Father's voice was just a trifle anxious. 

"No, no!" gulped Gwen emphatically. "Lesbia's a darling; I don'twonder people are fond of her. But oh, Dad, it is hard sometimes to beleft out in the cold!"

"Very hard. Many older and wiser people than you have felt that. Yetto bear neglect well is one of the bravest things in life. Don't worryabout not being appreciated; your own self-respect is worth more toyou than the opinion of other people. If you're quite sure you'redoing your duty, you can afford to ignore what the world thinks. "

"I don't know why I should be so unpopular, " sighed Gwen, squeezingFather's hand tightly, and rubbing her cheek against his coat sleeve, as if there were something comforting in the very feel of the cloth. 

"You must live it down. It may take a long time, and a great deal ofpatience, but I'm sure you'll win, and the girls will be proud of youyet. "

"Proud! They may get to tolerate me, but I don't believe I'll evermake them like me, Daddy!"

"Courage! We never know what we can do till we try. If you want to beliked, make yourself wanted. Good night, childie! Cheer up! Theworld's not such a bad place, after all. "

"Not while you're in it!" said Gwen, kissing the dear, plain face thatwas so like her own. 

CHAPTER VII

Dick Chambers

Since the afternoon when Gwen had stopped behind in Stedburgh toarrange about the broken china, and had been obliged to walk home, shehad seen nothing more of Dick Chambers. She looked out for him everymorning on the bus, but he was not there, and she was just wonderingwhat had become of him when he turned up in the most unexpectedquarter. It was the Saturday morning after the prize-giving. Saturdaywas a whole holiday, and therefore a blissful day, every moment ofwhich was appreciated. Gwen was returning about ten o'clock from anerrand she had been sent to do in the village, and as she opened theParsonage gate she saw in the middle of the front walk a boyish figurethat looked familiar. 

"Hello! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed. 

"Come on business of a rather particular character, " grinned Dick. "Didn't you know your Father's coaching me?"

"He never said so!"

"He is, though. I'm to come three days a week, from nine to ten, andI've just made a start this morning. I say, he's a ripping chap!"

"I agree with you there, " remarked Gwen. "But why aren't you going toschool?"

"Thereby hangs a tale! I happened to do an idiotic thing oneafternoon--fainted in the lab, and had to be picked up in the midst offragments of glass that I'd smashed to smithereens. Then Dad got somewretched specialist to come down and see me, and the fellow said Imust stop school for this term at any rate. "

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Do you feel ill?"

"No. I'm all right--but it's rather rotten, for I'm knocked off'footer'. "

"How sickening for you! I know how wild I should be if I mightn't playhockey. What may you do?"

"Only just loaf about--not even golf. "

"May you go walks?"

"Oh, yes! but it's rather slow mooning about on the moors by oneself. "

"Have you been to see Stack Head, where the sea-birds build? Or thechasms? Oh! you ought to go there! I'll show you the way if you like!"

"I wish you would!"

"There'd be heaps of time this morning--that's to say if I may go, "added Gwen, suddenly recollecting that she had promised Beatrice onher honour not to go anywhere without leave. "Oh, here's Dad, so I canask him. "

"Yes, by all means take Dick to Stack Head, the walk will do himgood, " replied Mr. Gascoyne. "Be careful, and don't scramble about toomuch, that's all--those cliffs are dangerous, remember!"

"We'll go as cautiously as two pussy-cats, " said Gwen. 

"Hardly an apt simile!" laughed Mr. Gascoyne, pointing to Pluto, theblack Persian, that was careering madly up a tree at the moment. "However, you're used to Skelwick rocks, and Dick will have to learnhis footing. Only please don't learn it at the expense of your neck, Dick! We haven't gone far enough with the Latin prose yet!"

"You needn't be afraid for me, sir, though I came a cropper over oldCicero this morning, " laughed Dick. 

It was a beautiful, sunny day in early November; one of those lateautumn days when a little crisp hoar frost lingers in the hollows, butin the full sunshine it is almost as warm as summer. Gwen fetched afavourite stick, her indispensable companion on the moors, and, discarding her jacket, set forth joyously for a five-mile tramp. Sheloved the great bare headland that rose behind the Parsonage; therewas a sense of freedom in leaving the houses of the village, andseeing only sea and sky around, and feeling the short, fine grassunder her feet. It was a stiff climb to the top of the plateau, butonce up there was a tolerably flat walk of about a couple of miles tothe jagged rocks that formed the end of the promontory. 

"Isn't it glorious?" said Gwen, when, the scrambling part finished, they sat for a moment or two on a rock to take breath. Below lay theclear, grey, even, shimmering surface of the sea, a little hazy at thehorizon, and changing to deepest green as it neared the cliffs, wherethe sea-birds wheeled round screaming in sheer joy of life. "Don't youfeel as if you could take a jump from the edge and just go sailingdown like a gull, and land gently on the water, and float off?"

"Better not try the experiment unless you provide yourself with aparachute! An aeroplane could make a good start up here. Do you everget any guillemots' eggs? Or puffins'?"

"Not often; though sometimes the lighthouse men bring us a few. Areyou collecting eggs?"

"Rather! I've got nearly five hundred. I could do with a razor-bill'sor a puffin's. "

"You'll have to wait till next summer. June and July are the bestmonths. I can show you where the birds sit, though. They haven'tproper nests, they just squat on the rocks, packed as close togetheras sardines. It's wonderful to see them. And the noise they make! No, it isn't here, it's over by the chasms; we shall get there soon. "

Half an hour's brisk walking brought them to what must have seemed tothe ancient inhabitants of these islands the end of the world. Theheadland descended in a sheer precipice into the water, whilewicked-looking rocks showed a black point here and there among thesurf as a warning to any vessel to give them a wide berth. The cliffwas hardly less dangerous than the rocks below, for its surface wastorn into great rugged chasms, each as deep as the sea level, thoughoften only a few feet in breadth. These curious natural rents wound intortuous course to the edge of the precipice, sometimes crossing oneanother, and thus leaving islands stranded between, or longpromontories, from the ends of which there would be no escape exceptby a jump. Gwen and Dick picked their way carefully along. There wasscarcely need for Mr. Gascoyne's warning; each felt the entirenecessity for extreme caution. Peeping over the edges of the chasmsthey could see green ferns growing in splendid clumps in clefts of therock, and farther down darkness or a glint of water. 

"Ugh! It would be horrible to tumble there!" declared Gwen, shiveringas she gazed into the dim depths. "You don't feel as if you'd evercome up again, do you? Why, what's that? Did you hear?"

"Nothing but the gulls. "

"It's like someone shouting. There it is again--behind us. "

"By Jove! it is someone calling. Has anybody slipped down one of theseholes? We'd best go and see, but do be careful. Hello, there! We'recoming!"

Walking, as Gwen had said, like cautious cats, they threaded their wayalong the narrow strips of land till they reached the particular chasmwhence the shouts issued. Looking over, they could see on a ledgeabout six feet down a little corduroyed, blue-jerseyed figure, and afrightened, freckled face that peered upwards. Gwen recognized theurchin in a moment: it was Johnnie Cass, the scapegrace of a family offisher folk who lived in the village, and the naughtiest boy inWinnie's Sunday School class. He was in no immediate danger, for theledge was wide, but the wall of rock above him was too steep to admitof his climbing up. 

"Johnnie, what are you doing down there?" she called. 

"Oh! boo-hoo-hoo!" wailed the scared voice from below. "I werereachin' after a sea-gurt with a broke wing and down I cooms!"

"Serve you right, too! How do you intend getting back?"

"I don't know--I wish my mother was 'ere!" and again he broke into ahowl of woe. 

"I'm glad she's not--she'd make a worse noise than you, from myexperience of her, " murmured Gwen. "Look here!" she continued, turningto Dick, "I suppose we've got to fish this little wretch up somehow. "

"If I reach down can you catch hold of my hand and let me pull you?"shouted Dick to the snivelling Johnnie. 

"Nay! I durstn't stir an inch--oh! where's my mother?"

"He's lost his nerve--that's what's the damage. If I go down for himcould you give me a haul back?"

Gwen shook her head. 

"You're too heavy. Better do it the other way. I'll go down, hand upthe kid, and then you shall pull me back. Nonsense! I'm not botheredwith nerves. Shan't mind in the least!"

It seemed the more feasible plan, for the six feet of rock thatsheered down to the ledge was so steep and smooth of surface as torender it impossible for anyone to climb it without assistance; and itwould be comparatively easy for Dick to drag Gwen's lighter weight tothe top, though a difficult matter for her to pull him. If her heartwent into her mouth as she let herself over the edge, Gwen did notshow it. She was not given to exhibiting the white feather, and bothat school and at home kept up a well-deserved reputation for pluck. Five seconds landed her by Johnnie's side, and once there she triednot to look into the gulf below. After some amount of cajoling, shepersuaded the young rascal to take his dirty little fists out of hiseyes, and allow himself to be hoisted up within reach of Dick's firmgrip; then a successful heave did the rest. Johnnie was soon insafety, but it was much harder work for Gwen to follow; there wasnobody to boost her, and not an inch of ledge on the rock to make afoothold. 

"It's good practice for Alpine climbing!" she gasped, as withdishevelled hair and grazed face she at last scrambled back. "Ithought my arms were being dislocated. "

Dick was rubbing his own arms ruefully, but he did not complain. Hehad turned very white. Perhaps the effort of pulling up two people hadbeen rather too much for him. Gwen suddenly remembered withcompunction that he was ill, and not even allowed the exertion ofgolf, much less "footer". She wished she had thought of it before andgone to the lighthouse for help. 

"I'm an idiot, " she told herself. "It was I who suggested he should dothe hauling part. I hope he hasn't done himself any harm. "

Meantime Johnnie Cass stood surveying Gwen with the grin of Puck. 

"Yer face is bleedin', and yer hair's all over yer eyes. Aye, yer dolook a sight!" he volunteered. 

Gwen shook him! She really couldn't help it; it relieved her feelingsso very much. After all, it is rather nervy work to go down a chasm;and though she wouldn't own that she had minded in the least, her legsseemed weak and queer, and her hands were hot and trembling, and therewas a funny buzzing sound in her head. She was rather ashamed ofherself for losing her temper, however, and tried suddenly to bedignified. 

"Johnnie Cass, " she protested solemnly, "you ought to be grateful tome for saving your life instead of making impertinent remarks!"

Dick burst out laughing. 

"Bravo!" he said. "Look here, you kid, if you don't want your headpunched as well you'd best obliterate yourself. "

Johnnie took the hint and fled away over the moor, bolting for homewith all possible speed and lifting up his voice as he went in amelancholy howl. Dick and Gwen sat down on a rock to recoverthemselves. 

"You've got some pluck--for a girl, " said Dick, throwing a pebble intothe chasm. "I didn't expect you'd really go down there and fetch him. Girls generally stand by and shriek. "

"Not modern girls, " affirmed Gwen. "They used to do the shriekingbusiness in oldfashioned novels. It's gone out of fashion since hockeycame in. "

"I thought ladies were supposed to scream and wring their slim, fairhands!"

"Shows you haven't got any sisters! Do my hands look slim and fair?"

"Well, no, they're a good deal more like a boy's, " admitted Dick. 

"I often wish I were a boy, " sighed Gwen regretfully. 

"Don't! You're a jolly sight nicer as you are, " returned Dick, gettingup to go. 

The pair did not reach the Parsonage until after one o'clock, andBeatrice and Mr. Gascoyne were beginning to wonder what had become ofthem. 

"I hope Dick's none the worse, " said Father rather anxiously when Gwenpoured out the tale of their adventure. "I'm afraid it's been a tiringmorning for him. He had better stop to lunch and have a good restafterwards before he attempts to walk home. I'll go and telephone tohis father from the post office and say we're keeping him. Perhaps Dr. Chambers will say he mustn't come here again if we let him do rashthings!"

The family laughed at the humorous account of the rescue of JohnnieCass which Dick and Gwen gave at the dinner table. 

"You needn't have expected gratitude from that imp!" said Winnie, whohad suffered many hard experiences in Sunday School. "Possibly hismother may thank you, but I doubt even that. "

"All the same Gwen did her best, and that's a satisfaction, " saidFather. "Johnnie's a clever little lad in spite of his naughtiness, and may turn out better than we expect Some day he may even thank youfor having saved his life. Gwen must keep her eye on him. He owes herso much it ought to make a bond between them. "

"Well, I wish her joy of her protégé, " said Winnie, with a dubiousshake of her head. 

After that Dick spent many Saturday mornings at the Parsonage. Hisfather would not allow him to invite his own friends as they alwaysproved rather too much for him, but the boy was lonely, and found theGascoynes pleasant companions. Gwen especially, who was nearest hisown age, became his particular chum, and the two carried out manyexperiments together in the way of photography, amateur bookbinding, and one or two other hobbies in which they were mutually interested. Dick's lessons with Mr. Gascoyne were over by ten o'clock, and hegenerally stayed an hour or two longer, adapting himself so well tothe household that he soon seemed to be almost one of the family. Giles and Basil adored him, and haunted his footsteps as much as theywere allowed, but their mischievous young fingers generally workedsuch havoc among slides and specimens that Gwen was often forced toturn them out and lock the door upon them. 

"Monkeys from the zoo are tame and well-behaved compared with Stumpsand Bazzie, " she declared. "If one wants one's things ruined commendme to two small brothers!"

Gwen was delighted to have found so congenial a friend. Beatrice andWinnie, being both older, were naturally companions for one anotherand were inclined to treat her entirely as one of the younger ones, forgetting how fast she was growing up, and it was difficult to makechildish little Lesbia interested in anything. Here at last wassomebody who appreciated birds' eggs, and butterflies, and collectionsof shells, and pressed flowers; someone who did pen-and-ink drawingsa great deal better than herself, and who knew exactly how to makelantern slides, and could even manage to mend the toy printing pressthat Giles had broken. 

Dick was clever with his fingers, and as he was not allowed to readvery much he spent long hours at home constructing wonderful boxes forbirds' eggs, or stretchers for butterflies and moths, or preparingslides for the microscope. 

"I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up, " he confided to Gwen, "somicroscopic work will be a help to me. Dad's teaching me a littlescrap of dispensing now, just to amuse me. "

"I hope he doesn't let you make up the bottles of medicine!" laughedGwen. "I pity the patients. "

"Rather not, but I see what goes in them. If you'll come over to thesurgery some day I'll make you taste something for laughing!"

"We should be lost without Dick now, " said Gwen one day at tea. "Whatshall we do when he goes back to school?"

"I'm afraid that won't be just yet, " said Mr. Gascoyne. "He doesn'tget strong as fast as his father hoped. He's a nice lad, notbrilliant, but very painstaking over his work. It's quite a pleasureto teach him. "

CHAPTER VIII

Gwen Receives a Letter

After her talk with Father on the evening of the prize-giving Gwenwent back to school determined, if she could not feel cordial just atpresent towards her classmates, she would at least bury the hatchetand take no notice of the unkindness they had exhibited. It seemedmuch the most dignified course, for Gwen was far too proud to lookinjured, or to show even to Netta that she had felt hurt. Perhaps thegirls were a little ashamed of themselves. Iris Watson and one or twoothers spoke to her with quite an approach to friendliness, andElspeth Frazer asked her opinion about the costumes for the play. Gwenwas not taking a part, so she was rather a free lance in that respect, and her advice was likely to be disinterested. Each Form got up itsown particular act with a secrecy worthy of the Freemasons. It was apoint of honour not to betray the least tiny hint of what was going tohappen, in order that the performance should be a complete surprise tothe rest of the school. 

Now the Fifth had decided to give the trial scene from the _Merchantof Venice_--rather an ambitious and decidedly a hackneyed piece toselect. The Dramatic Society was influenced in its choice, however, by several considerations; the Form was studying _The Merchant_, andhad learnt the principal speeches for recitations, which would save agreat deal of trouble to the performers in the matter of studyingparts. Then Hilda Browne's father was a barrister and would lend hiswig for the occasion, and Louise Mawson could bring a gown that woulddo excellently for Shylock's gaberdine, also two sets of tights anddoublets and feathered caps, all of which were invaluable assets inthe way of stage properties. 

"We must manage the rest of the costumes as best we can, " saidElspeth. "Charlotte Perry knows of a dressmaker who makes fancydresses very cheaply. She does them for other schools. The chiefquestion is the scheme of colour: Hilda wants us to copy exactly fromsome celebrated picture, and Louise says it doesn't matter as long aseverything looks very bright and gay. Here's a book of costumes. Tellme what you think. "

As Gwen turned over the pages of the little volume, with itsillustrations of Bassanio, Jessica, &c. , a horrible suspicion suddenlyshot into her mind. Where had she seen that book before? And justlately too! Why, at home, of course! She had come into thesitting-room suddenly and found Winnie and Beatrice discussing it overthe fire. Winnie had suppressed it instantly, but not before she hadcaught a glimpse both of the illustrations and the title. Sheremembered them perfectly. Now Winnie, as well as being JuniorMistress for the Fifth, was a member of a class for higher mathematicscomposed of a few Senior girls and taught by a professor who cameweekly from the University at Radchester. On the strength of thisclass she considered herself still one of the Sixth for specialpurposes, and licensed to take part in school performances. Was theSixth going to act in the _Merchant of Venice_? It looked uncommonlylike it. Why else should Winnie be studying that particular book ofcostumes?

Gwen was in a dilemma. She did not know what to do. Not only did theRodenhurst code of honour regard Form secrets as being inviolable asthose of the confessional, but further she had been continually warnedby Father and Beatrice that, now Winnie was a mistress, she and Lesbiamust be particularly careful never to repeat anything they heard athome which might be likely to compromise their sister at school. Itwas clearly impossible to betray the least hint of her suspicion, buton the other hand it would be an exceedingly stupid _dénouement_ ifboth Forms were to act the same play. She decided to try finesse. 

"Have you absolutely decided on _The Merchant_?" she said. "Don't youthink it's rather stale to choose our Form subject? It's been donebefore too. "

"Not for three years, " objected Elspeth. "That's quite time enough formost of the girls to have forgotten it. Besides, I know the speeches. "

"You could learn some fresh ones. "

"Oh, I dare say! It sounds easy enough when you haven't to do ityourself. One's homework is quite enough just now without learningpages of blank verse. Then there are the costumes. "

"Wouldn't they come in for _The Rivals_? You might do some scenes fromthat. We've never had it at school before, and it's simply ripping. Or part of _She Stoops to Conquer_ would be gorgeously funny. "

"You couldn't put Sir Anthony Absolute into Shylock's gaberdine, orTony Lumpkin into a Venetian doublet and tights! And what about thewig? Hilda's had hard work to persuade her father to lend it, andshe'd be fearfully offended if it wasn't used. "

These arguments were so conclusive that Gwen sighed. Nevertheless shemade a last appeal. 

"Well, I think you're very silly to act _The Merchant_, " she said. "You might choose something far more original and interesting. It's anopportunity wasted--and, if you'll only believe me, I'm quite sureyou'll be sorry for it. "

"It's you that's silly, Gwen Gascoyne!" retorted the indignantElspeth. "We've chosen _The Merchant_, so why need you go trying toupset everything. I was asking you about the costumes, not the play. "

"Like Gwen's cheek!" murmured Louise Mawson. "We don't want ex-Juniorsinterfering with our Dramatic!"

Gwen turned sharply away. It seemed most unfortunate that she alwaysgot across the rest of the Form. In this instance her motive was thepurest, but as she could not explain, the girls naturally thought itwas only her love of putting herself forward which caused her tosuggest such a drastic measure as a change of programme. 

"They never will understand me!" she thought bitterly. "Father saidthey would be proud of me yet, but oh, dear! the more I try to do, themore I seem disliked. They'll be fearfully sold when it comes to theperformance. I wonder if I ought to give them just a hint! It's reallytoo idiotic to have two _Merchants_. No, I won't! They'd probably onlyslang me for letting out Form secrets. I'm glad I'm not acting, at anyrate. School's not exactly a terrestrial paradise at present. I wonderwhat other troubles are coming to me? I believe I'm one of thosepeople who are born under an unlucky star!"

Gwen's words might almost have been prophetic, for the very next daysomething happened--something so unprecedented and overwhelming thatshe could never have anticipated it, even if she had been expectinggeneral ill luck. 

At the interval she received a summons to Miss Roscoe's study. Shewent at once, wondering why she had been sent for. 

"Hope the Head's not going to put me into the Sixth!" she laughed toherself. "That would be rather too good a joke. I'm willing to be aprefect or even proctor if I'm asked!"

Gwen's reception at her last visit to the study had been sofavourable, that this time she tapped lightly at the door, and enteredconfidently. One glance at Miss Roscoe's face, however, showed herthat she was in dire disgrace. The Principal's rather handsome, heavyfeatures seemed to cast themselves in a Roman mould when she wasannoyed; her brows would knit, and her mouth assume a set, doggedexpression of authority. All these storm signals being visible, Gwenquaked in her shoes. Miss Roscoe had an unopened envelope in herhand, and to this at once drew her pupil's attention. 

"Gwen Gascoyne, a letter arrived this morning addressed to you atRodenhurst. Now, it is one of our principal rules that no girls areallowed to have letters sent to them at the school. Tell yourcorrespondent on no account to write to you here again. If I findanything further addressed to you, I shall enclose it in an envelope, and post it to your father. I will not have Rodenhurst made a vehiclefor clandestine correspondence. You may go, but understand clearlythis is never to happen again. "

Gwen took the letter, and left the room in silence. She was too muchastonished to defend herself. She could not imagine who had written toher and put the school address. As soon as she was in the corridor shetore open the envelope. It contained a bill from "Messrs. John Parker& Sons, Glass and China Merchants" for

 "Replacing 10 articles in broken Tea Service ... £1 2 6"

And at the bottom was written in a business hand:--

 "Messrs. Parker beg respectfully to request Miss Gascoyne's settlement of above. Should she prefer it, they will send the account to her father. They beg to assure her of their best attention at all times. "

Gwen gasped. 

"Why, I paid it!" she said almost aloud. "At least, I sent the moneyby Emma. Is it possible she can have pocketed it? Oh, the deceivingwretch! Where's Netta? I must tell her at once!"

She rushed into the gymnasium, and calling Netta aside, showed her thefatal document. The two talked it over, aghast. 

"Whew! This is a bad job!" exclaimed Netta. "Certainly it looks as ifEmma had decamped with the one pound two and six. She's left theschool, you know. "

"I didn't know, " sighed Gwen. 

"Yes, she went ten days ago. Haven't you noticed there's a newhousemaid waiting at dinner? You must be as blind as a bat!"

"I'm afraid I am done for, " said Gwen dramatically. 

"Oh, I shouldn't give up too soon if I were you! I suppose, by the by, you wouldn't care to tell your father?"

"I'd rather die!"

"Then you'll have to go somehow to Parker's, and ask if they've made amistake. If, as I strongly suspect, Emma really didn't pay it, thenyou might get them to take part on account now, and leave the resttill after Christmas. What could you give them?"

"I don't possess more than sixpence. I'm bankrupt, and in debt to you, too. "

"But you're sure to get something at Christmas, aren't you?"

"I expect so. "

"Well, I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll lend you another tenshillings. That will make a sovereign altogether, and you can pay meback when you've had your Christmas presents. "

"Oh, Netta, how good of you!"

"Not so particularly. It's only a loan, and I expect you to give itback. "

"Of course. "

"You'd better go to Parker's this afternoon at four. "

"I daren't!" said Gwen, who felt that she was floundering deeper anddeeper into a morass of trouble. "You don't know what a scrape I gotinto at home for stopping behind that other time. Beatrice made mepromise absolutely always to come home with Winnie and Lesbia. Ishould have to give all kinds of explanations. "

"I'm supposed to go straight home too, on these dark afternoons. Mymother's rather particular about it. "

"Then what's to be done?"

"You'll have to make a bolt in the dinner hour. There's nothing elsefor it. "

"Umph! It's risky. "

"You must risk something, O my cautious philosopher! Nobody butThistles is about just then, and I think we can outwit Thistles. I'llbring the half-sovereign to school with me to-morrow, and you can takeit to Parker's, in case it's wanted. I'm afraid you'll find you'llneed it. "

"I should like to prosecute Emma--she richly deserves it!"

"Couldn't do that without giving ourselves away, so you'll have torestrain your righteous wrath, my child!"

Gwen spent the rest of the day feeling as if a black shadow hadsuddenly fallen over her life. She had believed the episode of thechina was completely finished with, and here it had cropped up againlike some horrible bogey prepared to haunt her. It was worse thanever, for she had lost her own fifteen shillings as well as the tenwhich Netta had previously lent her. Between Parker's and Netta shenow owed thirty-two and sixpence. The largeness of the debt appalledher. How was she ever to refund it? She hoped she might get a littlemoney at Christmas. Her grandmother and Aunt Violet generally sentpostal orders for presents, telling the girls to buy what they liked;it was these welcome gifts that constituted most of her contributionsto her savings box. 

The hint which Parker's had given about sending the account to herfather frightened her greatly. Father must not know. He would havequite enough Christmas bills to pay without adding an extra one. Besides, what would he think of her? Gwen liked to stand high in herfather's estimation. Beatrice, too, would hear of it, and would notspare her. 

"I'm always the black sheep of the family, " thought Gwen. "None ofthem have ever done anything so dreadful as this. No! I simplyshouldn't dare to tell at home. "

Netta turned up next morning with the half-sovereign, according to herpromise. She was not an ungenerous girl, and she had plenty of pocketmoney, for her father was well off, and liberal to his only daughter. She was willing to help Gwen out of a difficulty for which she knewshe herself was partly responsible, and perhaps also she ratherappreciated the sense of power that the debt gave her over herschoolfellow. Netta dearly loved to lead: she would have liked to beof importance in the Form, and was often annoyed that Hilda Browne, Iris Watson, and some of the others looked down upon her. It waspleasant therefore to feel that she had one satellite who was bound torevolve in her orbit, and could be reckoned upon to support her on alloccasions. 

Gwen had decided to commit a breach of school rules, and to rush outbetween dinner and afternoon school to pay her visit to the chinashop. As she had said, it was a risky performance. If she were caught, she would be reported to Miss Roscoe, and the penalty would be severe. It seemed sailing 'twixt Scylla and Charybdis, but it was worthtrying. The first difficulty was how to put on her outdoor thingswithout anybody noticing. Girls kept strolling in and out of thedressing-room in the most tiresome manner and after waiting as long asshe dared for the room to be empty, she was finally obliged to smuggleher hat and coat into the passage, and garb herself there. 

"I've barely time, " she said to Netta, who was acting scout. "Forgoodness sake tell me if you see Thistles about! Is the coast clear?Then I'll scoot. "

At the end of the passage, however, she encountered danger. Winnie wasstanding by the gymnasium door, and Gwen only just drew back in timeto avoid her. Chafing with impatience, she waited while Winnieleisurely examined some papers on the notice board. Was she going tostay there all the afternoon? At last she moved, and went inside thegymnasium, and Gwen plucked up courage to make a dash for the streetdoor. She hurried along with such enormous strides that passers-byturned to look at her and smiled, but careless of the notice she wasattracting, she even broke into a run as she caught sight of theMarket Hall clock. She was panting and altogether out of breath by thetime she reached the china shop, and not at all sure what she ought tosay. She marched up to the counter, and produced the bill which shehad received. 

"Look here! You've sent me this, " she began, "and I want to knowwhether it was really paid or not. "

"I'll just enquire, miss, " said the assistant, referring to hissuperior; then returning, after a whispered colloquy, he continued:"No, miss. Mr. Evans says it certainly never has been paid. You've noreceipt for it?"

"I gave the money to the housemaid at school, and told her to takeit, " faltered Gwen. 

"Have you asked her about it, miss?"

"She's left, and I don't know where she's gone. "

The assistant shook his head. 

"I'm afraid, in that case, she won't want to be found, though perhapsthe police could trace her if you cared to prosecute. "

"Would it not be simpler if we sent the account to your father, missy?" suggested the shopwalker, coming to join the assistant at thecounter. "Ah! I forget whether we have your home address? Always bestto refer bills to one's father, isn't it? Then there's no trouble. "

His tone verged on the familiar and impertinent. Gwen drew herself upvery straight. 

"I prefer to manage it myself, thank you, " she replied icily. "If youwill take ten shillings on account now, I will pay you the balanceafter Christmas. Will you let it remain till then?"

"I dare say Mr. Parker wouldn't object--that's to say, if you don'tmind giving me your home address as a reference. "

"You can put 'c/o Miss Goodwin, The Thorns, Manor Road, Stedburgh', "said Gwen, who wished at any cost to avoid the chance of a letterbeing sent to her at her own home. She got a receipt for the tenshillings on account, and put it carefully away in her purse. Shethought both the shopmen looked at her very inquisitively, but shetook no notice. She did not mean to gratify their curiosity byexplaining the details of how she had incurred the expense. She wishedNetta were with her; it was so much harder to keep up her dignityalone. With a curt "Good afternoon!" she left the china stores andhurried back to school. She was only just in time, for the second bellwas already ringing. Fortunately the dressing-room was empty, exceptfor one agitated Junior, who was in too great haste to noticeanything. Gwen scuttled into the Fifth exactly five seconds beforeMiss Douglas, and sat down at her desk, exhausted but congratulatingherself. She contrived to write a surreptitious note to Netta, and topass it, neatly rolled into a ball, on the waste-paper tray. Its tenorwas calculated to be ambiguous to outsiders, but intelligible to theinitiated. 

 "All hail, Protector of the Poor! This is to inform you that the deed is done--successfully. I thought I was within an ace of exposure, but things righted themselves, and lo! I triumphed. For the present the supplier of brittle goods is satisfied, and for the future--well, I leave it to luck. I feel like a warrior who has been through a campaign--I'm not sure if I haven't acquired some wounds. My head is swimming, and I'm a broken flower for the afternoon. Expect me to collapse in maths. My brains are capable of nothing more arduous than the three R's. I am living till four, when I can have the exhilaration of reciting my breathless experiences to your sympathetic ear. 

"Yours in abject gratitude, "G. G. "

CHAPTER IX

Keeping Christmas

The end of the term seemed to arrive very rapidly--too quickly for theamount of work that had to be done, yet too slowly in the estimationof the three hundred and eleven girls who were looking forward to theholidays. Exam week came and went, leaving inkstained fingers and acrop of headaches; mistresses were busy correcting papers; "swatters"were daring to congratulate themselves, and "slackers" were bewailingthe difficulty of the questions. Gwen, who had done pretty well on thewhole, considering her handicaps, ventured to think she must bethrough in most subjects, and not such a disgrace to the Fifth as tonecessitate her dismissal to the Lower School again, a consummation atwhich one or two of her detractors had occasionally hinted in times ofirritation. 

The few days left were chiefly occupied with what the girls called"scratch lessons", just something to keep them employed until thelists were out. A good deal of latitude was allowed to thoserehearsing for the various performances, and though Gwen could notclaim that excuse for exemption, she managed to make a little workspin out a long way without incurring reproof. 

She was tired with the strain of the term; it had needed much effortto keep up with the rest of the Form, and the daily bus journey andwalk to and from home were all extra exertion. She had grownenormously in the last few months--"grown out of all conscience", saidBeatrice, who sighed ruefully over boots too small and skirts tooshort--and she had become so pale and lanky and angular in the processthat Winnie unfeelingly compared her to a plant raised in a cellar. Her unlucky hands and feet seemed bigger than ever, and more inclinedto fidget and shuffle, and to her bad habit of wrinkling up herforehead she had added a nervous blink of her eyes. 

"Winnie Gascoyne is charming, " confided Miss Douglas to a fellowmistress, "and Lesbia is about the loveliest child I've ever seen. Ican't imagine why Gwen should vary from pretty to plain continually. But she does. "

Unfortunately, Gwen's temper suffered in exact proportion to herincreased inches. She was snappy at school and snarly at home, difficult to please, and ready to take offence at everything. Probablya week's rest in bed, on a feeding diet and a good tonic, was what hertired body and irritable nerves required, but nobody had the hardihoodto make such a suggestion. Except in cases of dire necessity, theGascoynes did not indulge in the luxury of medical advice or chemist'sbills, so Gwen perforce did without a doctor, and the medicine hewould most undoubtedly have prescribed for her. So far from thinkingof rest, she was making plans sufficient to fill five holidays insteadof one; even she herself laughed sometimes at the largeness of herprojects compared with the brief month in which she was to carry themout. 

Meantime the two days of the dramatic performances had arrived. TheSeniors always had the first afternoon and the Juniors the second, theaudience being composed of the rest of the school together with themistresses. The outside public was not invited, as the little playswere only intended to be acted among the girls themselves. The Sixthnaturally led off, and Gwen quaked as she sat with her Form in frontof the heavy red curtains. She was afraid an unpleasant surpriseawaited her comrades, and she wondered how they would take it. Exactlywhat she expected happened. The bell rang, the curtains were drawnaside to reveal--alas, alas, for the Fifth!--a very excellently got uptrial scene from the _Merchant of Venice_. Bessie Manners, the head ofthe school, was a majestic Portia in a handsome scarlet robe; Winniemade an attractive Nerissa; while all the other characters werearrayed in slightly more sumptuous costumes than Elspeth and Hilda hadbeen able to collect. 

A shudder of cold horror ran through the unfortunate Fifth, thedramatic representatives of which listened with a kind of fascinationto their own speeches, tripped off lightly and easily by theirSeniors. It was more particularly galling as all realized that thewhole thing was on a rather higher scale than theirs; it was betterstaged, much prompter, the actions were more appropriate, and theplayers less stiff and self-conscious, to say nothing of the superiordresses. In gloomy resignation they sat the scene out, and had themagnanimity to applaud heartily at the end. Then came the crisis. 

"We can't possibly give the very same thing all over again, " whisperedHilda to Elspeth. "We shall just have to announce that ours is 'off'. "

Deeply humiliated and disgusted, the Fifth retired to its ownclassroom to discuss the untoward event. 

"It's too sickening--when I'd borrowed the wig on purpose!" wailedHilda. "You can't think how I had to pester Dad to lend it. "

"And my Bassanio doublet and tights were made at a dressmaker's!"lamented Louise Mawson. 

"Who'd have thought of the Sixth choosing that very scene?"

"Well, I tried to persuade you to take something else instead, "declared Gwen, offering Job's comfort to the disappointed ones. 

"Gwen Gascoyne, I verily believe you knew all the time what the Sixthwere going to have. "

"You must have known when your sister was in it. "

"I wasn't sure, but I had an inkling, " confessed Gwen. 

"Then why didn't you tell?" howled the girls in chorus. 

"Why? Because it didn't seem fair. Winnie hadn't said a word--I onlyguessed. You know we're all supposed to keep our own secrets. "

"In this case you ought to have warned us properly. It was too bad tolet us rehearse all that time, and get all the costumes together--forthis!"

"We've made ourselves ridiculous, and it's your fault entirely. "

"Couldn't you act it here, just among ourselves?" suggested Gwenhumbly; but her proposal was squashed by an indignant and scornfulmajority. 

"Act it here indeed! Who'd care to do that, I wonder? Don't be soidiotic. You've spoilt our performance, Gwen Gascoyne, when you mighthave saved it. Why couldn't you stay in the Lower School? You haven'tsense enough to be a Senior. "

It was not a very satisfactory ending to a first term, even thoughGwen had done better in the exams than she expected, so that her placein her new Form was well assured. She still felt an outcast, and asshe shut her desk for the last time on breaking-up day, she gave asigh of intense relief to think that she was going to enjoy a wholemonth's freedom from the society of her classmates. 

Home at present was the _summum bonum_ of her wishes. She almostdanced along the road from school, and behaved so jubilantly in thebus that Winnie had to interfere, and give her a hint to restrain herhilarity before the other passengers. She rushed into the Parsonagelike a cyclone, and flung her satchel under the bookcase. 

"There! That's done with! Hurrah! No more horrid, hateful, scrambly, early breakfasts, and tramping off through the mud. Every day's aSaturday, and I'm just going to have a glorious time. "

"There's plenty for you to do, " said Beatrice, fishing out the satcheland putting it tidily away on Gwen's special shelf. "I haven'tfinished those texts I was making for the church yet, and--"

"Oh, wow! Don't set me to work too soon! I've a heap of things of myown that want doing first. Winnie is far cleverer at cutting textsthan I am. "

"She's more to be depended upon, certainly, " said Beatrice dryly. 

Each member of the family was mysteriously occupied with specialsecrets. There were still five days before Christmas, time for anenergetic person to get through a great deal, and Gwen hoped toaccomplish wonders. She was in a sad quandary about her Christmasgifts. Her savings box, which ought to have contained over fifteenshillings, only held a threepennybit and two halfpennies; and sheshook her head dismally as she reviewed her pauper condition. 

"I must make presents, that's the long and short of it, " she toldherself. "They can't be handsome ones. And, oh dear! they'll all thinkme so horribly stingy and mean. Well, they'll have to, for I can'texplain! It's absolutely sickening, but it's inevitable. "

So Gwen shut herself up in her bedroom, locked out the injured Lesbia, who had plans of her own which she wished to pursue in privacy, put ona thick jacket and a pair of mittens to keep herself warm, and set towork bravely. It is rather hard to make bricks without straw, and hersupply of materials, mostly purloined from Beatrice's piece-box, wasdecidedly scanty. She held a review of the articles when she hadfinished, and screwed up her face over them in expressivedissatisfaction. 

"They're a shabby little lot, that's flat!" she decided. 

She turned them over disconsolately--the needle-book for Beatrice, nottoo tidily sewn; the blotter for Winnie, with its brown paper cover, hastily painted with a spray of roses, and its one sheet of blottingpaper begged from Father's writing-table; the pincushion for Lesbia, trimmed with a piece of washed ribbon; and the two postcard albums forBasil and Giles, made out of pieces of cardboard with slits cut in thecorners. 

"I can afford to spend the threepennybit on Father and Martin, " shethought; "but I must leave the halfpennies to rattle in my box, sothat it doesn't sound empty. "

The village shop did not offer a very large selection of goods for anexpenditure of threepence. Gwen was almost at her wits' end what tochoose, and finally came away with a cake of oatmeal soap and a largered chalk pencil. Walking back up the village she met Beatrice. 

"I've just been to see the Casses, " said the latter. "They're in awfultrouble. Thomas Cass has sprained his wrist and can't go out in hisboat, and Mrs. Cass is in bed with bronchitis. Johnnie's running aboutwith his toes all through his boots, and says he can't come to churchor Sunday School because he hasn't another pair. "

"Haven't you an old pair of Lesbia's or Stumps's?" suggested Gwen. 

"Not one. We sold them all at the Rummage Sale. "

"Then he'll have to go barefoot, I suppose. "

"I was wondering, " said Beatrice tentatively, "if we could manage toget him a pair ourselves. Winnie would give something, I'm sure, andso would I, and so would Father. "

Gwen was silent. 

"I thought perhaps as you'd rescued him you might feel interested inhim, and you'd care--"

Beatrice did not finish the sentence, but looked at her sisterhopefully. 

Gwen stared at the ground and went very red, but she said nothing, andBeatrice, after waiting a moment, turned away and entered the postoffice. 

"Of all absolute frauds, I feel the meanest!" groaned Gwen. "Beatricewill think me a perfect miser, hoarding up my money and not willing tospend a farthing on anybody! If she only knew the bankruptcy of mybox! Was any wretched girl ever in such a fix? Oh! Gwen Gascoyne, you've got yourself into an atrocious mess altogether, and I don't seehow you're ever going to climb out of it. "

Gwen's one sheet anchor of hope, to which she clung in a kind ofdesperation, was the thought of the postal orders that Grannie andAunt Violet almost invariably sent at Christmas. If these did notarrive, she could not pay Netta, and then--well, any kind ofcatastrophe might be expected to follow. She went about with a load oflead on her heart, and a consequent shortness of temper highly tryingto the rest of the family. She was grumpy with the little boys, impatient with Lesbia, and so unaccommodating over doing thedecorations in church that Beatrice finally begged her to go home, saying she and Winnie could finish alone. 

"You two always want to get rid of me!" flared out Gwen as she stumpeddefiantly away. 

It was not a very happy preparation for Christmas, and Gwen stoodrather forlornly in the church porch, her hands in her pockets, watching a few snowflakes that were beginning to fall silently fromthe heavy grey sky and to whiten the tops of the gravestones and theoutlines of the crooked yew trees near the gate. The peace andgoodwill that ought to have been present everywhere to-day seemed tohave vanished. 

"Beatrice was just horrid, " thought Gwen, quite oblivious of the factthat the quarrel was of her own making. We are so apt to forget thatthe world is like a mirror, and if we insist upon frowning into it, itwill probably frown back. We sometimes expect other people to do allthe forbearing, and then are astonished if our much-tried friends failin the very point in which we ourselves are so deficient. 

"Why, Gwen, what a woebegone face!" exclaimed Father, who hurried infor a moment to speak to the parish clerk. "You'd make a grand modelfor an artist who wanted to paint a picture of 'Misery'. Are thedecorations finished?"

"Almost; at least my part of them. "

"Then go home and open that parcel of Parish Magazines you'll find onmy study table, and deliver those that belong to the village. You knowwhere to find the list. Be sure to tick the names off. And don't gofarther down the road than Marriott's farm; it's getting dark. "

Gwen cheered visibly. She was always glad to do something for Father, if it were only distributing Parish Magazines, so she strode off witha swinging step, humming the carol that the school children had beenpractising with Winnie that afternoon. 

 "Show us, dear Christ-Child, Thy Christmas light, Teach us the song of the Angels bright, And the love of the Mother blest. And help us this Christmas to learn of Thee All we should do, and all we should be, And how we can please Thee best. "

Fortunately the Gascoynes were a forgiving family, and when they allmet at tea-time nobody seemed to remember Gwen's ill humour. Theevening was a busy one, for there were holly and ivy to be put up inthe Parsonage now the church was finished, and the usual mirth over abough of mistletoe which old Mr. Hodson, who owned the big farm by themill, always cut off every year from an apple tree in his orchard andbrought to them with his own hands. Gwen forgot her troubles andromped with the rest, accepting Martin's sticky kisses in the spiritin which they were intended. The Gascoynes did not hang up theirstockings, but laid their presents on the breakfast-table, so thatthey could have the gratification of opening all their parcelstogether. It was a point of honour not to take the tiniest peep insideeven the most tempting-looking package until the whole family wasassembled. Gwen had tried to make up for the poverty of her offeringsby the warmth of the greetings she wrote outside, but she did notfeel proud of her collection as she carried it downstairs. She was thelast, so she hastily made her distribution, and turned to her ownplate. She had been well remembered: a book from Father; a nightdresscase, beautifully embroidered, from Beatrice; a new purse from Winnie;a big bottle of scent from dear little Lesbia, who to buy it mustcertainly have gone without the blue-handled penknife she had covetedso much in Bayne's window; some pencils from Giles and Basil; and apiece of indiarubber from Martin, who had compassed seven presents ona capital of eightpence-halfpenny. Gwen looked rather anxiously as theothers opened the packets she had addressed to them; but whatever theythought, they all had the niceness to hide their feelings, and thankedher as if she had given them the most expensive objects obtainable. 

Father's humour, however, could not help twinkling out at the cake ofsoap: "To Darling Dad, with dearest and best love, from Gwen". 

"I hope it isn't a hint I need washing, " he said with mockseriousness. 

"I thought you liked oatmeal soap!" protested Gwen, nearly crying. 

"So I do, my dear; and I haven't had any for a long time. Like the manin Pears's advertisement, I shall now use no other. "

"Here's the postman!" shouted Giles, rushing excitedly to the door, where that much-burdened official, with an extra man to help him, wassorting out what belonged to the Parsonage. 

"Six letters for you, Gwen, and two parcels, " said Beatrice, assumingcommand of the correspondence, and distributing it among the eagerfamily. 

Gwen snatched her share nervously. Would any of the letters containthe longed-for postal orders? No, they all had halfpenny stamps, andwere clearly only Christmas cards. 

Then she fell upon the parcels. The first contained a handsome knittedcoat, and cap to match, "with love from Grannie", and the second, abeautiful little set of Wordsworth's poems in a cloth case, "with AuntViolet's best wishes". 

Gwen sat down on the sofa, feeling as if she had received a rudeshock. That both Grannie and Aunt Violet should have sent presentsinstead of money was worse than she had calculated upon. She tried topull herself together, and not show her disappointment too plainly, but the thought of what she owed was paramount. It only made it worsethat the gifts were really acceptable, and that the rest of the familypersisted in considering her extremely lucky. 

"It was kind of Grannie to send that lovely coat: dark green will justsuit you. Try it on, and the cap too, " said Winnie. 

"It looks swank!" declared the boys. 

"They'll go with your dark green skirt, " affirmed Beatrice. 

"The Wordsworths are scrumptious!" said Lesbia. "You've done awfullywell this Christmas!"

"Yes, but how am I going to pay my debts?" thought Gwen, as she ranupstairs to get ready for church. 

CHAPTER X

A Prodigal

As the next term seemed likely to bring its own crop of troubles, Gwen, with a kind of grim philosophy, determined to enjoy herselfwhile she could, and make the most of the holidays. She helpedvigorously at the schools, where tea parties for children andgrownups, concerts and other entertainments were in full swing, andshe even wrung a few words of appreciation from Beatrice for heractive services in the way of slicing up cake, cutting ham sandwiches, and pouring out innumerable cups of tea. Gwen liked the villagefestivities, she knew everybody in the place, and found it all fun, from listening to the comic songs of the local grocer, to playingOranges and Lemons with the babies in the Infant School. 

"We've three real parties too, " she said on December 30th, "as well asgoing to the Chambers' this afternoon. "

"I hardly think Mrs. Chambers will expect you, " declared Beatrice, looking out of the window at the dark sky. "It's beginning to snowalready, and I believe we shall have a heavy fall. "

"Then it must keep off till to-morrow, for we've got to get to NorthDitton somehow!" announced Gwen. 

Dick's mother had asked the younger Gascoynes to tea, and amongsttheir various invitations it was to this that Gwen looked forward themost. She wanted to see Dick's home, and the collection of birds' eggsand butterflies which he had promised to show her, and his magiclantern, and his microscope, and all the Natural History books ofwhich he had so often spoken. She watched the weather impatiently, andwhen the snow fell faster and faster, and Beatrice decidedemphatically that the visit was impossible, she broke into openmutiny. 

"It's too bad! We shouldn't take any harm. What an old mollycoddle youare, Beatrice!"

"I've a little more sense in my head than you have! With this wind theroads will be deep in drifts. It's quite unfit to go out, especiallyfor you with that nasty cough. I should have you laid up withbronchitis. "

"My cold's better, " affirmed Gwen, trying not to sound hoarse; "snowdoesn't hurt people. Father's gone out in it!"

"Father was obliged to go--it's quite a different thing for him. I'msorry you're disappointed, but really, Gwen, don't be so childish!Look at Lesbia, she isn't making such a dreadful fuss!"

"Lesbia never worries about anything, so it's no virtue at all!"snarled Gwen, knowing perfectly well that she was unfair, for Lesbiaundoubtedly added self-control to her naturally sweet disposition. "You always hold up Lesbia! You've no right to say we must stop athome, just because you're the eldest!"

Beatrice sighed. Sometimes she thought this turbulent cuckoo of ayounger sister was the cross of her life. 

"It's no use talking in this way, Gwen! Somebody must be in authority, and you'll have to do as you're told. "

"I shan't! I don't care! You're only six years older than I am!"

And Gwen flounced out of the room in a rage. She ran upstairs, hereyes smarting with hot tears of temper. She was disgusted with theothers for not taking the matter more to heart. How could Lesbia sitreading so calmly, or the boys amuse themselves with their absurdengine?

"They don't care like I do! I wish I could go without them!" she saidaloud. 

The idea was an excellent one. What fun it would be to go alone, andhave Dick all to herself--no tiresome youngsters to claim hisattention, finger his books, and perhaps break his birds' eggs; noteven Lesbia to ask stupid questions about things any ordinary personought to know. She could easily tell Mrs. Chambers that her sister hadthought it too stormy for the little ones to venture, and probably Dr. Chambers would drive her back in the gig. 

"After all, Father never told me not to go!" she thought, "andBeatrice is getting a perfect tyrant; I can't be expected to obey heras if I were an infant. A girl in the Fifth is quite old enough todecide things for herself, especially when she's as tall as I am!"

Gwen changed her dress, put on her best hair ribbon, her brooch, andher locket, then peeped cautiously down the stairs. Although she feltfull of self-assertion, she had no wish to risk a further encounterwith Beatrice. All seemed quiet, so, donning hat and coat, she creptto the cupboard where mackintoshes and galoshes were kept, and armedherself to defy the weather. It was quite an easy matter to slip outby the back door, and in less than ten seconds she was hurryingthrough the village, chuckling at her own daring and cleverness. Thickflakes were whirling everywhere: when she looked upwards they showedas little dark patches against the neutral-tinted sky, but when theypassed the line of vision, each soft lump of crystals gleamed purestwhite as it joined the ever-deepening mass below. Every gate and stumpand rubbish heap was a thing of beauty, glorified by the etherealcovering of the snow; the dead clumps of ragwort by the road side, thewithered branches of oak, the shrivelled trails of bramble all seemedtransformed by the feathery particles into a species of fairyland. 

As Gwen left the village, and took the path that led across the moor, she seemed to walk into a cloud of whiteness that enclosed her andshut her out from all before or behind. She stood still for a moment, and drew in her breath with a sense of intense exhilaration. She wasall by herself in the midst of this new-found world of snow, and thevery solitude had a fascination. It is good sometimes for the spiritto be alone; strange vague thoughts, half memories, half imaginings, fill the brain like a full high tide; strong impressions, unfelt andunknowable in the distraction of human company, force themselvessilently yet persistently upon us; the corporal and the tangible losetheir hard outlines and begin to merge into the in visible--in suchmoments the soul grows. It is perhaps one of the disadvantages of alarge family that the members are apt to lack what one might callspiritual elbow room, the constant close companionship, the fridgingand rubbing of the continual, daily, hourly intercourse, though anexcellent discipline for the temper, leaves scant opportunity for thedevelopment of the individuality. Gwen could not have explained thisin the least, but as she stood in the still quiet of the falling snow, she felt as if all the little fretting cares and worries and squabblesand anxieties dropped away into a subordinate place, and she wereviewing life with another range of vision, where the proportions ofthings were quite changed. 

She walked on, almost as if she were in a dream, without even thesound of a footstep to break the intense silence. She was now on theopen wold, where there were neither hedges nor walls, but only a fewstones to mark the road from the sedgy, heathery expanse of moor thatstretched on either side. Gwen knew the way so thoroughly that shethought she could have followed it blindfold. Every rock and boulderand bush were familiar, and as a rule were so many points along thedaily path to school. Now, however, all the well-known landmarksseemed to have a strange similarity, and to be merging into one greatwhite waste, in which tree stump was indistinguishable from stone orgorse clump. The light was fading rapidly, for the clouds went ongathering, and the flakes came down ever thicker and faster. So farGwen had gone on with the utmost confidence, but now she stopped andentertained a doubt. She did not recognize the boulder on her right, and the juniper bush on her left was surely strange. 

"I verily believe I've come wrong somehow, " she muttered. "There'snothing for it but to turn back. "

She could see her own footsteps in the snow behind, and for somehundreds of yards she traced them; then they began to get fainter andfainter, and presently they were hidden entirely by the new-fallenflakes. The road was completely obliterated, there was nothing roundher but shapeless indefinite whiteness. Then it dawned upon Gwen'ssoul that she was lost, lost hopelessly on the bare wold, where shemight wander for miles without seeing the gleam of a farmhouse windowor hearing even the bark of a shepherd's dog. The solitude that beforehad seemed so inspiring, suddenly became oppressive loneliness. Whatwas she to do? Tramp on and on, perhaps in a circle, till she could gono farther? Already it was heavy walking, and under the rocks andbushes the drifts were deepening. Yet it would never do to sit down inthe snow. Tired as she was, she must keep moving, and while thefaintest gleam of daylight lasted she must try and find someguide-post to civilization. 

"I wish I'd brought Jingles. I never thought of him, " she sighed, longing regretfully for the shaggy Irish terrier that acted watchdogat the Parsonage. "I wonder how soon they'll miss me at home? Not tilltea-time, I expect, and then they'll probably think I'm at theChambers'. Beatrice would guess where I'd gone. How furiously angryshe'll be!"

For the first time a little awkward uncomfortable inward suggestionbegan to croak that elder sisters are occasionally right, and mayeven be wiser in their generation than tall girls who have entered theFifth. Gwen's cough, which had been hacking all day, came on muchworse, and began to hurt her chest: she wished she had brought her_thick_ muffler. It was a subject of perennial dispute between herselfand Beatrice, and she often discarded it simply because the lattertold her to put it on. She hated to appear mollycoddlish, andsometimes indeed did very silly things out of sheer foolhardiness. Atpresent she was bitterly cold. The snow had sifted inside hergaloshes, and made her feet wet, and the chilly wind was creeping downher neck and up her sleeves, and whirling frozen flakes at her face. No cheery tea in the Chambers' drawing-room, and no delightful chatwith Dick afterwards about photography and magic lanterns. 

"The fact of the matter is that I've been an idiot!" she confessed toherself. "Anybody with an ounce of sense would have known it was toosnowy to cross the wold. I ought to have gone round by the high road. I seemed to turn across here just out of habit. "

Gwen could not tell how long she stumbled about. It felt likeinterminable hours as she wearily dragged herself along, watching thesky grow darker, and the landscape more and more blurred, till shecould scarcely distinguish which was snow and which was sky. At lasther aching limbs absolutely refused to carry her any farther, and shecrouched under the shelter of a big juniper bush that overhung a pieceof rock. Here at least she was out of the biting, freezing wind. Thecomparative warmth made her feel sleepy. She roused herself with aneffort. To sleep in the snow, she knew, was fatal, so she fell torubbing her hands and feet to try and restore the circulation. All atonce she started up and shouted aloud. 

In the distance she had heard a short, sharp yelp, and she reasonedthat where there was a dog, a man might possibly be following. Againand again she called, till, to her intense relief, a "Hallo!" came inanswer, and she made out a snowy form moving in her direction. The dogfound her first; it bounded at her, whining and sniffing at herskirts, then rushed away barking loudly to inform its master of herwhereabouts. 

"Can you tell me where I am? I've got lost!" cried Gwen, wadingthrough a drift in her eagerness to meet her rescuer. 

"Why, you're close to our house--Rawlins' farm. Who is it? I can't seein the dark. Miss Gascoyne? Why, whatever are you doing here allalone?"

He might well ask, Gwen thought, but she ignored the question. Sheknew the man, for he was a parishioner, and two of his boys sang inthe choir at church. 

"Can you tell me how to get home?" she said, with chattering teeth andwatering eyes. 

"Better come and have a sup o' tea first; you look clemmed wi' thecold, " he returned. "We'll tak' you back after wi' the lantern. It'snobbut a step to the farm. "

He whistled to the dog and moved on, and Gwen stumbled after him, wondering how she had missed seeing the house when it was so near. Shescarcely knew whether to pose in the light of a heroine or a culpritas she walked into Mrs. Rawlins' kitchen, but decided to give asguarded an account of the matter as she could. There would beexplanations in plenty when she returned to the Parsonage. She wasvery glad to sit and thaw by the fire and drink hot tea, despite thedifficulty of fencing with Mrs. Rawlins' questions, that good damebeing consumed with curiosity, and not restrained by any feelings ofdelicacy from catechizing her guest. 

"Yes. No, I wasn't coming back from school, it's the holidays--yes, I'm generally with one of my sisters--no, I wasn't delivering ParishMagazines, we sent yours by Charlie--yes, I expect my father will bemissing me. Thanks very much for the tea; I think I must be goingnow, " said Gwen, gulping her second cup and making a move. 

"Here's the lantern, Jim, " said Mrs. Rawlins to her husband, "and takeMiss Gascoyne round by the road; 'tain't fit to venture over the moor. It's scarce a night for a Christian to be out--and her with thatchurchyard cough, too! Goodness, gracious, how it's blowing!"

Gwen reached home so spent and exhausted with her long tramp throughthe snow, that she had only wits enough left wearily to thank Mr. Rawlins for his escort, and to stumble in at the front door. Winnieran forward with a cry of relief, and shouted to Beatrice the welcomenews of the arrival. 

"Don't ask me anything! Oh, I just want to go to bed; I'm done!"wailed Gwen, subsiding on to the nearest chair. 

Beatrice took the hint, and refrained from any reproaches till shehad tucked up the prodigal in warmed blankets, with a hot bottle ather feet, and seen her consume a basin full of steaming bread andmilk. Then she observed:

"I suppose you know Father and half the village are out hunting foryou with lanterns? They raised the Boy Scouts and broke up the Band ofHope meeting. They telephoned to the Police Station at North Dittontoo. I expect you're rather proud of yourself!"

And Gwen turned her face to the wall and sobbed and coughed till shenearly choked. 

Next afternoon a very miserable-looking object, with watering eyes anda swollen cheek sat wrapped in a shawl by the fire in Father's study. Gwen had made her peace with Beatrice and had been forgiven, but shewas still "eating the husks" of her escapade in the shape of athoroughly bad cold and a touch of toothache. She refused to stay inbed, yet the noise of the family sitting-room made her head throb, sofinally Father had taken pity upon her, and allowed her to bring hertroubles into his sanctum. He had said very little about the events ofthe day before, but Gwen knew exactly what he must be thinking. Shemopped her eyes with her handkerchief, and tried to believe it was hertoothache that was making her cry. After a long time she said huskily, à propos of nothing in particular:

"Things always go so hardly with me, somehow, Dad! I don't know how itis. I generally seem unlucky, both at school and at home. I supposeit's partly me, but if things were easier, I'd be better. I should, really. "

[Illustration: "THINGS GO SO HARDLY WITH ME SOMEHOW, DAD. "]

Father did not reply: he was busy addressing the motto-cards that hewas sending to his parishioners for the New Year. He handed one to hersilently. 

And Gwen read:

 "O do not pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger men. Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers; pray for powers equal to your tasks. Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle. But you shall be a miracle. Every day you shall wonder at yourself, at the richness of life which has come to you by the Grace of God. "

--_Phillips Brooks. _

Gwen sat staring hard into the fire. 

"I'll hang this up in my bedroom, Dad, " she said presently. 

"Do; you'll find it worth thinking about, " replied Father, as heblotted the thirty-fourth envelope. 

CHAPTER XI

A Prize Essay

Gwen went back to school feeling rather tamed and sober. The bad coldand face-ache, subsequent on her adventure in the snow, had seriouslyinterfered with her plans for the holidays, and she had notaccomplished half she intended to do in the time. Dick Chambers hadbeen laid up in bed with an attack of rheumatism, so she had scarcelyseen anything of him, and altogether the much-longed-for month hadheld its disappointments. She returned to her desk in the Fifth almostglad to begin a fresh term, though she knew many difficulties awaitedher. First and foremost was the horrible fact that she owed a wholesovereign to Netta Goodwin, and had absolutely no prospect of payingit. She tried to avoid any private conversation with her chum, but theruse was not successful for long. Netta was a girl who was accustomedto get her own way, and she followed Gwen round the school until shecaught her alone. 

"I say, you old slacker, what about that sov. ?" she began. "I supposeyou got your Christmas presents all right?"

"Oh, yes, I got my presents!" said Gwen, trying to pass things offairily. "Not quite what I expected, though. "

"But you can pay me back?"

"I'm afraid I can't just yet. "

Netta's rather pretty face changed its expression considerably. 

"When can you, then?" she asked sharply. "I want to know. "

"Could you wait a fortnight?"

"It's inconvenient, but I might. "

Netta was still scowling. "Will you promise faithfully to bring it bythe 1st of February?"

"I'll do my best, " agreed Gwen, escaping from what was to both a veryunpleasant interview. 

She had mentioned a fortnight simply on the spur of the moment to putNetta off, but she knew that the 1st of February would bring no wayout of her entanglement. It was something, however, to have even arespite of two weeks; it gave her time to think and to lay plans. Shewondered what Netta would do if, as seemed most likely, the debt stillremained owing. She did not suppose Netta would turn informer to MissRoscoe, but she might very possibly mention the matter to Winnie, whowould tell Beatrice, who would promptly tell Father. 

"Only a fortnight!" groaned Gwen, feeling like a criminal in acondemned cell. "Unless 'something turns up', as Mr. Micawber says in_David Copperfield_. If I were the heroine of a novel, a forgottenuncle in America would suddenly die, and leave me a million just atthe opportune moment. But I'm only a very unromantic, every-day kindof person, not the forget-me-not-eyed, spun-gold-haired, wild-rose-petal-complexioned, pearly-toothed sort of girl who getsfortunes; I'm solid fact, not fiction. Most things are nowadays, Isuppose. "

Certainly the Fifth Form did not offer scope for romance or sentiment. Its daily doings were most prosaic, a round in which Latin, mathematics, and chemistry were chiefly to the fore, and the onlyappeal to the imagination was the weekly lecture on English literaturefrom the Principal. Gwen liked these; Miss Roscoe had the knack ofmaking historical dry bones live, and encouraged the girls to read forthemselves. All her lessons were interesting, but in this she wasinspiring. She was accustomed to give themes for fortnightlyexercises, and at the first lecture of this new term she announced asa special subject: "An Essay on any one of the Great Writers of theVictorian Era", promising a volume of Browning's poems as a prize. 

"I had intended to offer it for Christmas, " she said, "but I thoughtyou were too busy preparing for examinations to be able to give timeto such an essay. I hope you'll do justice to the subject now. "

It was a large order, thought Gwen, when already their homework hadabout reached its outside limit. Miss Roscoe was quite unconscionablein her demands on their time and brains. She fixed the standard of theForm so high that only the very bright girls could possibly keep up toit. Many slacked off entirely, but Gwen could not, dared not slack. She knew Miss Roscoe was watching her work, and that very muchdepended upon her reports for the next year or two. Father had thrownout a few hints that had stirred her ambition and raised wild hopesfor the future. She was aware that there were several goodscholarships from Rodenhurst, and visions of College began to dawn onher horizon. 

"'Gwen Gascoyne, B. A. ', sounds no end. It would be worth the grind. Imayn't be the beauty of the family, but I believe I've got the bestshare of the brains. Beatrice would be proud of me if I took mydegree. I must make something of this essay if I 'burn the midnight'. Miss Roscoe will expect me to turn up trumps. I'll toil like a navvy!"

So Gwen decided, and stuck to her resolution. She had an undoubtedcapacity for work, a power of application and of steady plodding thatwere of immense service, as well as more brilliant gifts. She attackedthe question at once. The Victorian writers offered a fairly widechoice of subject. She hesitated at first between George Eliot andDickens, and finally selected Thomas Carlyle. Something about therugged old prophet attracted her, and she thought he would be acongenial theme for her pen. She spent every spare moment in readinghis biographies or his works, till she felt she had him at herfingers' ends. Then, with a mass of notes as a foundation, she beganher essay. 

Most young writers undergo the same first agonies of composition: thevainly sought simile, the sentence that will not turn nicely, thetiresome word that crops up too often, yet for which there seems noadequate substitute; the sudden lack of ideas, or the non-ability toclothe those one has in suitable language. 

Gwen wrote and burnt, and wrote and burnt again, till at last shemanaged something, not at all up to the ideal of her imagination, butthe best her limited literary experience could produce. She refused toshow it to anybody at home, and bore it off to school to read over andcorrect during the dinner hour. She was sitting at her desk, busyaltering sentences and erasing words, when Netta came into the room. 

"Hello, you old solitary hermit!" she exclaimed. "What are you doinghere, with your nose buried in an exercise book? There's no getting atyou nowadays. You'll grow old before your time, Gwen, my child! Comeout this instant, and play basket-ball. "

"Can't, so that's flat, " responded Gwen. "Netta, if you love me, ifyou've any humanity in you, leave me alone. Basket-ball's off tillI've finished this. "

"Well, you've got to tell me what you're doing, at any rate. Let melook! No, Miss Modesty, you're not going to hide your light under abushel. I insist! Oho! What have we got here now?"

Netta dragged the book from Gwen's reluctant hands, and sitting on aneighbouring desk, began hastily to skim through the essay, givinggrunts of approval as she read. 

"First rate! I say, this is immense! Gwen, my hearty, I didn't thinkyou'd got it in you!"

"Will it do?" demanded Gwen anxiously. She had sat on metaphoricalpins to hear Netta's verdict. 

"Do? I should rather think it would! If Lemonade doesn't mark it A1, First Prize, I shall say she doesn't know her business, that's all!You're pretty safe for that book of Browning, in my opinion. "

"Wish it were cash instead! But I shan't get it in any case, " sighedGwen. "If I did, I'd trade it for anything I could. "

"You mercenary wretch!"

"I'm so hard up. I'm no nearer paying what I owe you, Netta. Iliterally haven't a penny in my pocket I wish you'd take it in kindinstead of money. "

Netta sat silent, drumming with her fingers on the desk. 

"I've a rather decent locket, if you'd care for that--" continuedGwen. 

"Hush! Be quiet! You've given me an idea, Gwen Gascoyne. "

"Or I've a really jolly writing case--almost new--"

"I don't want your lockets or your writing cases; I've heaps of myown. I know one thing I do want, though, and if you like to trade, youcan. "

"Done! Only name it, and it's yours with my blessing. "

"Well, I want this essay--"

"My essay! What do you mean?"

Gwen snatched back her exercise book as a mother clutches herfirst-born. 

"I mean what I say. If you like to hand over 'Thomas Carlyle' to me, I'll take it instead of the sov. , and call us quits. It would be a newexperience to win a prize. How amazed everyone would be!"

"You surely wouldn't pass it off as your own?"

"Why not?"

"Why, Netta! That would be rather strong, even for you!"

"I told you long ago I was no saint. Besides, what's the harm? It's abusiness arrangement. You offered to pay me in kind, and this happensto be the 'pound of flesh', I fancy. It's perfectly fair. "

"Um! Don't quite see the fairness myself. "

"But it is!" protested Netta rather huffily. "I believe lots ofpopular authors don't do all their own writing themselves. They engagesecretaries to help them. I've even heard of clergymen buying theirsermons. "

"Oh, oh! Father doesn't!" Gwen's tone was warm. 

"Well, I didn't say he did, but I believe it's done all the same. And ifa vicar can read somebody else's sermon in the pulpit as if it were hisown, I may hand in somebody else's essay. _Quod est demonstrandum_, mychild. "

"Can't see it!" grunted Gwen. 

"Look here, Gwen Gascoyne, you've got to see it! I've been uncommonlypatient with you, but I don't quite appreciate the joke of being doneout of that sov. I must either have it or its equivalent. You canplease yourself which. "

Netta's eyes were flashing, and her mouth was twitching ominously. Shewas a jolly enough fair-weather comrade, but she could be uncommonlynasty if things went wrong. 

"I suppose you don't consider it unfair to keep me waiting all thistime?" she added scathingly. 

Gwen kicked the desk and groaned. 

"Well, it just amounts to this: if you don't choose to come to terms, I'll tell Lemonade. Yes, I will! I don't care a scrap if I went intoher room as well as you. You broke the china, and you'd get into theworst row. It wouldn't be pleasant for you. I think you'd better handover Mr. Thomas Carlyle to me, my dear. "

"And what am I to do, I should like to know?"

"Write another on a different author. "

"There isn't time. "

"Yes there is, heaps! I don't want it to be as good as this, naturally. Well, are you going to trade, or are you not? I can't waithere all day!"

For answer, Gwen held out the exercise book. She was in a desperatelytight corner; everything seemed to have conspired against her. Sheknew Netta and her mad, reckless moods quite well enough to appreciatethe fact that her threat to tell Miss Roscoe was no idle one. When hertemper was roused, Netta was capable of anything. 

"It's her fault more than mine if it's not fair. I really can't helpit, " thought Gwen, trying to find excuses for herself. 

"Oh! Glad you've come to your senses at last!" sneered Netta, as sheclutched the precious manuscript and stalked away, slamming the doorbehind her. There was no one else in the room, so Gwen laid her headdown on the desk, and indulged in an altogether early Victorianexhibition of feeling. Her essay--her cherished essay, over which shehad taken such superhuman pains, to be torn away from her like this!It was to have brought her such credit from Miss Roscoe, for even ifit did not win the prize, it would surely be highly commended. And shehad made herself a party to a fraud, for however much she might tryto whitewash her act, she knew she had no right to allow Netta to useher work. 

"Dad would despise me! Oh, what an abominable mix and muddle it allis! And I was going to start the New Year so straight!" wailed Gwen. 

Netta in the meantime had put the essay away in her locker with theutmost satisfaction. She felt she had decidedly scored. Neitherbrilliant nor a hard worker, she had no opportunity of distinguishingherself in the Form under ordinary circumstances: here chance hadflung into her hand the very thing she wanted. It would not take longto copy the sixteen pages of rather sprawling writing, then "ThomasCarlyle" would be her own. 

"And a surprise for everyone!" she chuckled complacently. "Of course, it's rather dear--a whole pound! But--yes, most undoubtedly it's worthit!"

To Gwen, not the lightest part of the business was that she was facedwith the horrible necessity of writing another essay. Only two daysremained, so time pressed. It was impossible to look up any subjectadequately, so she chose Dickens, as being an author whose books sheknew fairly well, and by dint of much brain racking and real hardlabour contrived to give some slight sketch of his life and anappreciation of his genius. She was painfully conscious, however, thatthe result was poor, the style slipshod, and the general compositionlacking both in unity and finish. She pulled a long face as she signedher name to it. 

"That isn't going to do much for you, Gwen Gascoyne, " she said toherself. "It won't even get 'commended'. Bah! I'm sick of the wholething!"

She felt more sick still on the day when Miss Roscoe returned theessays. 

"I had hoped the average standard would be higher, " commented thePrincipal. "Very few girls have treated the subject in any reallycritical spirit. There is only one paper worthy of notice--that onThomas Carlyle by Netta Goodwin, and it is so excellent that it standshead and shoulders above all the others. I am very pleased, Netta, very pleased indeed, that you should have done so well. Your essay iscarefully thought out and nicely expressed, and is evidently theresult of much painstaking work. You thoroughly deserve the prizewhich I offered, and I have written your name in the book. "

The Fifth Form gasped as Netta, with a smile of infinite triumph, marched jauntily up the room to receive her copy of Browning's Poems. Each girl looked at her neighbour in almost incredulous astonishment. Netta Goodwin, of all people in the world, to have won such praise!

Gwen drew her breath hard, and clenched her fists till her nails hurther palms. At that moment, I am afraid, she hated Netta. 

"Who was your author, Gwen? I chose Thackeray, " said Louise Mawsonafterwards. 

"Dickens--and I only got 'fairly creditable', " responded Gwen. "It'sjust rotten!"

Which was a word utterly tabooed both at Rodenhurst and at home, butthe sole one that seemed bad enough for the occasion. 

"So I hear Netta Goodwin's was the prize essay, " remarked Father thatevening. "Well, we can't all of us win prizes, can we? It was astrange coincidence that she should have written on Thomas Carlyletoo!"

"Most remarkably strange, and very unfortunate for me, " admitted Gwen, drinking her cup of bitterness to the dregs. 

CHAPTER XII

Gwen turns Henwife

To Gwen the spring term seemed to pass much more rapidly than theautumn one had done. She was growing used to the Fifth Form; and thework, though certainly not easy, was now, thanks to the extra coachingthat she had received, well within her compass. She did not feel soterribly harassed over her preparation, and instead of, as formerly, spending the whole evening until bedtime at her books, she was able tospare a chance hour or two occasionally for other things. The changeof thoughts and the extra interests did her good; she lost her worriedexpression, and though she still could not help wrinkling up herforehead when trying to answer a question, some of her other badhabits began to drop away. Beatrice had not to correct her nearly sooften, consequently there was less fridging of tempers between the twosisters, and a great increase of calm in the home atmosphere. It was amatter of tacit understanding at the Parsonage that Gwen raised mostof the household storms. Winnie and Lesbia had peace-lovingdispositions, and jogged along very evenly; and the boys, though aptto be mischievous, were always good-humoured little fellows, not muchgiven to quarrelling unless they were teased. At present such ablessed tranquillity reigned at the breakfast and tea-tables thatBeatrice really began to hope that the family volcano was quietingdown, and that her eruptions and explosions would be things of thepast. 

Perhaps it was partly the pleasant spring weather that had such abeneficial effect on Gwen's temper. She loved the early growing seasonof the year, when every day was a little longer and lighter than thelast, and the bulbs were pushing up in the garden, and the hazelcatkins showering clouds of pollen in the lane, and the rooks cawingand building in the clump of elms near the mill, and great flights ofscreaming white sea-gulls, noisy, chattering jackdaws, and cheery, whistling starlings flew all together in mixed flocks to feed on thewolds. The morning walk to North Ditton across the heath, so bleak andwretched in December, was a daily delight now the sun was glintingover the sea and the gorse was in bud, and the stonechats, which hadvanished during the cold weather, were back among the boulders, darting from stone to stone in short, jerky flight, with that sharp, jarring cry which is the prelude to their sweeter spring note. Themoorland air at 8 a. M. Was so fresh and pure and exhilarating that itseemed to blow away all the cobwebs, and Gwen often felt inclined todance along the path for sheer joy of the sun and the wind, and thebirds and the countless green things that were rapidly showing theirheads through the brown skeletons of last autumn's heather andbilberry. The thrill of springtime is a totally different sensationfrom what we experience on even the most gorgeous day in October;there is a message of hope in the air, a foretaste of the comingsummer, a glow of reawakened vitality, an exaltation half physical andhalf spiritual, as every year nature tells us afresh in her ownfashion the miracle of the Resurrection. 

Life was a busy round at the Parsonage. Winnie devoted each moment shecould spare to the garden and the hen-yard, and Gwen, who at presenthad a craving for out-of-doors, lent a hand as often as she could. Shewhistled and sang over her work as she transplanted forget-me-nots, sowed seeds, or tidied up the rockery, and her stalwart arms made thelawn mower fly. 

"There's some advantage in growing!" she declared, as she trundledaway the wheelbarrow full of weeds. "My muscles have hardened sincelast year. I'll wheel you back up the garden, Martin, if you like. Tumble in!"

Gwen and Winnie had a great scheme between them of building a summerhouse, and every Saturday they managed to get on a little with theiroperations. There was a large pile of young felled trees in the yardwhich Mr. Gascoyne had bought for firewood, and some of these wereadmirable for the purpose. With considerable toil they dragged outhalf a dozen, dug holes in the ground, and planted them as posts tomake a framework. Smaller boughs were nailed across and across, andthen bunches of heather were tucked and tied securely into all theinterstices. The roof was at first a terrible problem, till Winnieconceived the brilliant idea of using an old worn-out gate that lay inthe orchard. It was heavy to lift, but with the aid of Father, Beatrice, and Nellie the maid, they managed to heave it up so that itrested securely upon the six posts. Then they thatched it neatly withheather and fir boughs. 

"I don't suppose for a moment that it will be watertight, " saidWinnie; "but we shan't use it in wet weather. What I want is a niceshady place to sit in at the end of the tennis lawn. It will beperfectly lovely to have tea here. I believe I can make seats withsome of those stumps. "

"I'd back you to do anything in the joinering line, " laughed Dick, whostill came for lessons on Saturday mornings, and generally stayed tochat and help the gardeners, though he was yet debarred from any veryviolent exertions, greatly to his indignation. "You ought to be aColonial. I believe you'd be equal to running up a shanty on your ownand making the furniture out of old boxes. "

"Perhaps I'll emigrate some day, " nodded Winnie. "It would be more inmy line than teaching. I'll leave University honours to Gwen, and trymy luck in another hemisphere. Women are wanted in Canada if they'redomesticated--and I flatter myself I'm that. "

"Don't know that I won't join you when I've got my degree!" declaredGwen. "I've yearned to go to Canada ever since I saw those rippingpictures on the kinematograph--only Father'd have to promise to comeand see me every fortnight. "

"How particularly possible! Gwen, you're a rotter!" chirped Dick, throwing a piece of stick at her. "I thought your last idea was tostudy medicine and go to College with me. "

"Perhaps I shan't be able to do either: scholarships don't grow onevery bush like blackberries. Probably I'll just have to stay at homeand 'wash dishes and feed the swine'. By the by, we haven't shown youour eleven little pigs! They're absolute darlings, as sweet as theDuchess's baby in _Alice in Wonderland_. Come along this instant, andI'll catch one for you to nurse. We've never had a pet pig before, butI declare I mean to tame one of these. They're the sharpest, cutestlittle scaramouches you ever saw: as funny as kittens, and twice asintelligent as puppies. Yes; I'm a pig enthusiast at present, and ifyou laugh I'll make you buy one for yourself!"

There was plenty of scope for Gwen's energy as spring came on andadded hatch after hatch of fluffy chickens and downy ducklings toWinnie's hen-yard. She helped to arrange the coops, to make wiredenclosures for the tiny chicks, and, hardest task of all, to collectthe young pullets and cockerels that were allowed to roam on thecommon, and lock them up safely for the night. 

"No one who hasn't tried henkeeping could possibly conceive thedifficulty of getting in those wretched long-legged, half-fledgedfowls, " declared Gwen. "They know I'm going to shut them up, andthey're so clever they come for the Indian corn when I call 'chuck, chuck', and eat it with one eye upon me. Then when I try to cajolethem into the henhouse they fly all ways. Lesbia, you may come and actguard, but I won't have the boys; they only rush about and frightenthe chickens. The last time I took Stumps the Buff Orpington with theblack feather in its tail flew over the hedge into the turnip field. I didn't get him back till it was moonlight, then I caught himperching on a stump, and carried him round. "

The particular pride of Winnie's heart was a clutch of littlePartridge Wyandottes, mothered by a comfortable old Plymouth Rock hen. The setting of eggs had been given her by a farmer's wife in theneighbourhood; they were from a particularly good strain, and ten outof the dozen had hatched and thrived. She watched over them with morethan ordinary zeal, leaving manifold instructions with Nellie fortheir diet during her absence at school, and visiting them the veryfirst after her return each afternoon. On the evenings when she tookthe choir practice at church she entrusted them solely to Gwen'scharge. 

"Give them a last feed of 'Chikko', and see that they've got cleanwater, and don't let Jingles go near them, because the old hen getsexcited, and stamps about and treads on them, " urged Winnie oneWednesday as she started off with a roll of music in her hand. "Besure you shut them up early, because Nellie says she saw a rat lastnight, and I noticed something had been burrowing near the shed. "

Gwen promised complete accordance with all directions, and then wentoff to finish her Latin translation. It was a particularly stiff pieceof Virgil, and she puzzled over it so long that she utterly forgot allabout the chickens, and it was only the call of an owl waking up onthe ivy-covered ash tree at the bottom of the garden that reminded herof her henwife's duties. 

"Gracious! It's nearly dark!" she exclaimed, flinging down Virgil andmaking a rush for the hen-yard. "I hope to goodness those chicks areall right! What an idiot I am! Winnie will be ready to slay me ifanything's happened to them. "

It was growing very dusk indeed, and though none of the doors were yetshut, the feathered flock had all gone to roost. As Gwen crossed thehen-yard she suddenly saw something dark and shadowy creep from behindthe shed and dart stealthily in the direction of the coops. Itdisappeared inside the very one where the cherished PartridgeWyandottes were cuddling under their foster-mother's wings. Gwen'sheart almost stood still. She well knew the cunning and daring ofrats, and how they would snatch the chicks or young ducklings from thewariest and most warlike hen. To leave this in the coop for even aminute while she went to call help would certainly result in the lossof one or more of Winnie's favourites. 

Very cautiously she peered inside. The hen, who knew her well, cluckedsoftly, and the chickens popped their little speckly heads out fromthe mass of encircling feathers and "peeped" gently. They were not yetaware of danger. Where was the rat? It appeared to have vanished intothin air. It certainly could not have left the coop. At the oppositeend from where the hen was sitting there was a billet of wood, and onlooking at this closely she saw a long tail dangling out underneath. Without doubt her enemy had taken refuge there and was hiding in thecorner. 

"These precious chicks have got to be saved somehow or Winnie'll neverforgive me, " muttered Gwen, clenching her teeth to brace her nerves. 

Then she did a thing from which her whole spirit shrank. She took herhandkerchief in her hand to give her a firmer grip and seized hold ofthe tail. She dragged the rat out of the coop and bore it off, hanginghead downwards and whirling round and round in vain effort to escape, while it squeaked with wrath and indignation. Fortunately it could notraise its head sufficiently to bite her or she might have suffered anasty wound. Gwen rushed towards the back door, shouting loudly forNellie, but when that worthy domestic saw what she carried she uttereda yell of terror instead of offering help. 

"Throw it down, Miss Gwen, it'll bite you!" she shrieked. "Oh!gracious goodness! throw it down!"

"Bring the poker! Where's Jingles?" screamed Gwen. Then, realizingthat she could hold her wriggling burden no longer, she dropped therat into the water-butt, and catching up the yard brush which layhandily near, held down the victim till it was drowned. 

"Miss Gwen! How did you dare!" shivered Nellie. 

"Ugh! It's a hateful, horrid, barbarous thing to have to do. I feel asif I'd committed a murder. It's made me quite sick, " said Gwen. "Nellie, do go and shut up those chickens before any more rats getinto the coop. I don't feel equal to catching another. " Then she satdown on the pump-trough to recover. 

"You're a heroine!" declared Winnie when she came back from the choirpractice and viewed the interesting corpse. "I shouldn't have dared!No, nothing in this world would have induced me to seize the creatureby its tail. It's a huge one too, with such wicked-looking teeth. Whata wonder you weren't bitten! You shall have one of those PartridgeWyandottes for your very own. Choose whichever you like and I'll callit yours. "

"I wish you'd help me to finish my Virgil, " said Gwen. "I'm onlyhalfway through and it's almost bedtime!"

"You're as good as a terrier, Gwen!" said Dick, when he heard theexciting story the next Saturday. "I wish you'd come ratting in ourstable at home. I'd undertake to find you some sport. "

"Don't be detestable! You talk as if I'd enjoyed it. I had to bury thething afterwards, for Winnie wouldn't touch it. I made a mull of myVirgil in class next day, and I couldn't tell Miss Douglas thereason. "

"You might have put the episode into Latin. It sounds quite Homeric. Did you keep the tail as a trophy? If we want to excite you we'll justsay 'Rats'. Please let us know when you're on the warpath again andwe'll come to see the fun;" and Dick dodged round an apple tree andfled. 

"You've got to be here early next Saturday, mind, and help us to takethings to the Agricultural Show!" Gwen shouted after him. "You maycome to breakfast if you'll behave yourself. "

"Right-o! I'll act beast of burden provided it's hens I'm tocarry--not rats! Ta-ta!"

The Agricultural Show was the great event in the year at Skelwick. Itwas held in the big field beside the mill, and all the villagers formiles round made holiday to attend it. For days beforehand men werebusy putting up pens and erecting a tent where eggs and butter anddressed fowls could be exhibited, while a few travelling caravansarrived with shooting galleries or cheap bazaars and set up a kind offair in an opposite field. 

There were many classes for poultry, so Winnie decided to send some ofher best cockerels, a selection of Buff Orpington chickens, and a pairof big white Aylesbury ducks. She and Gwen got up very early on theSaturday morning to take a final review of their exhibits. They weredetermined to give the ducks a washing in order that they might showthem with their plumage in an absolutely spotless condition. Armedwith a tin bath, a can of warm water, some soap and a sponge, theyshut themselves in a disused pig sty and commenced operations. It isno easy task to wash a large, struggling, flapping, protesting duck, and though Gwen held their wings down while Winnie did the scrubbing, both girls were splashed all over and drenched with water before theyhad finished. 

"But the Aylesburys look gorgeous, " said Gwen, flinging herdishevelled hair from her hot face. "They're clean to the very tips oftheir beaks. The drake looks as if you'd curled his tail feather withthe curling tongs. They're fearfully upset and angry, poor dears; theythink they've been half killed. Winnie, how are we going to get themto the Show?"

"That's what's puzzling me. We don't possess a basket big enough forthem. I believe we shall have to carry them. "

"In our arms? Yes, that'll be by far the best way. They'd knock theirfeathers about in a hamper and get dirty again. They've had onebreakfast already, but I think they deserve a little scrap of Indiancorn as a reward for what they've gone through. "

All exhibits had to be delivered at the Show field by nine o'clock, and precisely at half-past eight a procession set off from theParsonage: Lesbia carefully carrying a dozen beautiful brown eggs in abasket, the three boys with small hampers of chickens, Dick holding alittle wooden crate containing Black Minorca cockerels, and finallyWinnie and Gwen, each clasping a huge white Aylesbury in her arms. Dick had offered gallantly to be duck bearer, but the girls preferredto transport their own pets. 

"They know us so well, you see, " said Gwen, "so they won't strugglelike they would with a stranger. Besides, we know just the dodge ofholding down their wings so that they can't flap. "

They decided to take the short cut to the mill, through two meadows, across a small stream, and over a stile that led them direct into theShow ground. Gwen and Winnie got on very well with Dick and the boysto open gates: it was rather perilous work crossing the stream on asingle plank, but they accomplished that in safety, and Winnie, withinfinite caution, climbed over the stile into the mill meadow, stillhugging her burden. Gwen essayed to follow with equal skill, but thestile was a very steep and awkward one, and she needed both hands tohold the drake. She was stepping carefully over the top bar whensomehow her foot caught and she stumbled; she put out one hand tosave herself, and the cunning drake, quick to seize his opportunity, wriggled himself free and made a dash for liberty. 

Off he went over the Show ground, flapping and fluttering like a whitewhirlwind and quacking his loudest, and the Gascoyne family, poppingdown hampers and baskets, followed hard behind; Winnie, muchencumbered by her duck, shouting frantic directions. It was Dick whocaught the runaway, and pinioned him cleverly until Gwen secured him, then with much triumph they shut him up with his agitated mate in thewire pen marked "No. 207". 

"I thought we'd lost him, " panted Winnie. "Oh, dear! It's no jokebringing one's beasties to a show. I'm glad we decided not to exhibitthe pigs! Martin, you're not to open that hamper. We shall be havingthe chickens escaping next! Stop him, Stumps! I feel like the 'OldWoman who lived in a Shoe'. Gwen, you take charge of the cockerelswhile I find where the Black Minorcas have to go to. "

The public was not allowed in the field while the judging was inprocess; so until twelve o'clock the Gascoynes were obliged to waitwith what patience they could muster. As soon as the gates were openedthey trooped into the Show. 

"Hurrah! First Prize for White Aylesburys!" exclaimed Winnieecstatically, gazing with rapture at the large pink card thatdecorated No. 207 pen. "It was worth washing them. The darlings! Hownice they look!"

"And the chickens have got a third!" yelled the boys, who had taken ahasty round of the exhibits. 

"The eggs haven't won anything, but the cockerels have 'commended'. Mrs. Hodges' have got the first. "

"We haven't done badly, " said Winnie, "considering I can't devote allmy time to it like the farmers' wives. Gwen, you've helped loyally, and I'm going to give you half a crown out of the prize money. I shallsave the rest to buy some really good White Leghorns; Mrs. Hodges saysthey lay better than any others in the winter. Oh, here's Father! Wemust go and tell him of our success. "

CHAPTER XIII

The Shoe Pinches

The very first thing which Gwen did, when Winnie had given her thepromised half-crown out of the prize money, was to go straight to thepost office and buy a postal order for that amount and a penny stamp. She possessed a few odd coppers, but otherwise no funds had come herway for a long time, and she had been growing very uneasy about thebill which she still owed to Parker's for the broken china. She nowsent them the postal order, with a note saying that she hoped verysoon to settle the remainder of the account, and begging them to waita little longer. She also asked them to return her a receipt addressed"c/o Miss Netta Goodwin, The Thorns, Manor Road, Stedburgh". 

"I dare say Netta'll be angry, and call it cheek on my part, but Ican't help it, " thought Gwen. "I daren't get another letter sent toschool after the rowing Miss Roscoe gave me, and if it comes home, Beatrice will want to know who's been writing to me. It's only fairthat Netta should take a little of the bother on her own shoulders. She's certainly had the best of it in this affair. Oh, dear, I stillowe Parker's ten shillings. I haven't the ghost of a notion how I'm topay it!"

Gwen could not forgive Netta for appropriating her prize essay. Shestill felt indignant whenever she thought about it, especially asthere was always an uneasy sensation of guilt on her own part. Sheknew it was not a straight transaction, and poor Gwen, with all herfaults, loved straightness. For lack of other friendships at schoolshe was forced into companionship with Netta, but she neverwhole-heartedly liked her. Lately, especially, Netta had taken arather high-handed tone, and was apt to order her chum about in amanner that Gwen's independent spirit greatly resented. The frictionbetween the two was sometimes hot, but neither cared to risk aquarrel, for each knew that the other, if turned into an enemy, mightcome out with some decidedly awkward revelations. So they went on inthe old way, squabbling continually over trifles and making it upagain, but on the whole ready to stand up for each other against therest of the Form. Yes, alack!--the rest of the Form, for Gwen, inspite of her well-meant efforts, had not yet won popularity in theFifth. She had tried to be genial and sociable, but nobody seemed towant her. If she joined in a conversation, Rachel Hunter or EdithArnold would stare at her as if they thought it great impertinence onher part to intrude herself into their concerns. They never asked heropinion, or consulted her about anything, but simply ignored her, andleft her to her own devices. Nearly all the girls lived in Stedburgh, and their talk was often of Stedburgh affairs, concerts, amateurdramatic performances, and entertainments in which Gwen, living faraway at Skelwick, could have no possible part. Though she sometimesgot in a word about school matters, her remarks were never wellreceived, and she was always more or less conscious of being an alienand an outsider in her Form. 

She tried to pretend that she did not care about the opinion of theothers, but it was hard, all the same. Most of us like popularity, especially when we believe we have done nothing to deserve thereverse. 

"If I'd been as pretty as Lesbia, they'd have made ever such a fussover me, " thought Gwen. "She's the pet of her form, and the darling ofall the big girls. I'd have been a beauty if I could! They never evengive me a chance to be nice to them--they just leave me alone. Yes, it's hard!"

But all the while, Father's New Year motto hung over the dressingtable in her bedroom, and every morning she could not help looking atit. It seemed a stern gospel to pray for strength instead of ease, andyet it attracted her. After all, was it not a nobler conception oflife to work away and not mind what people thought of you, than to bealways caring whether you were popular? There was a certain joy inovercoming difficulties, and surmounting obstacles. She was alreadysucceeding in mastering the lessons that had baffled her at first. Could she ever win a place for herself in the Form? It wouldundoubtedly seem almost a miracle if she did. 

"I wonder if I should be happier at another school?" she sometimesthought. "Dad spoke once of the possibility of sending me to one ofthe Clergy Daughters' Schools; he said I might get a scholarship. Butoh, dear! That would mean leaving home, and being a boarder! SupposeI didn't like it any better than Rodenhurst; then it would beperfectly awful to have to spend the whole term without once seeingDad or any of the others. No, I won't suggest it. I'd better stickwhere I am, and peg along as best I can. "

Gwen was a great home-bird. On the few occasions in her childhood, when she had paid visits at relations' houses, she had, after a fewdays, grown so intolerably homesick, and wept so hopelessly andinconsolably, that she had had to be packed back, rather in disgrace;and though she was now old enough to behave herself, she had not beenasked again, nor was she very enthusiastic to receive invitations. Shefelt bashful, awkward, and badly dressed under the critical eyes ofAunt Violet or Aunt Christina, and much preferred the atmosphere ofthe Parsonage, and the society of her own family. To come back everyevening from school, and spend Saturday and Sunday at home, seemedindispensable at present, though she supposed if she went to Collegelater on, she would have to get used to being away. 

Eastertide came, and brought welcome holidays. Gwen helped to deck thechurch with daffodils, and great boughs of pink almond blossom, andbunches of sweet-smelling wallflowers. She loved the Easterdecorations far more than those at Christmas, and this time she hadrather a free hand, for Beatrice was too busy to come, and Gwen wasallowed to do the lectern and reading desk all by herself, whileWinnie undertook the pulpit. She gave infinite pains to her work, andFather praised the result, which was a tremendous satisfaction. To doanything for Father was a joy. Gwen often wished she could play theorgan like Winnie, but she was not clever at music. Beatrice had madea great effort to teach her the piano, with poor success, for she wasnot a docile or attentive pupil, and the lessons generally involved awrangle between the two sisters, Beatrice losing her patience, andGwen arguing hotly. Finally Father had put a stop to the lessonsaltogether, on the ground that it was sheer waste of time, and Gwenwas better employed at something else. Lesbia, however, played rathernicely; she could manage the harmonium at the Sunday School, and wasjust beginning to practise the organ under Winnie's instructions. Itwas the one thing Lesbia did pretty well, for she did not distinguishherself at school. She was not a remarkably bright girl, and was verychildish for her age. Though Gwen was fond of her younger sister, andpetted her like everybody else, the two were not in any sensecompanions. Lesbia was far more on a level with the little boys, andgenerally amused herself with Giles or Basil; Gwen's schemes andprojects were miles above her head. 

The holidays, though very enjoyable, were quite uneventful. Theyslipped away much too swiftly, and the ordinary round of school andhome work began again. It was the summer term, however, and to Gwenthat meant a great deal. She took up tennis with hot enthusiasm, practising both at home and at school in any time she could spare. Herlong arms and strong wrists stood her in good stead, and it began tobe said in the Form that "Gwen Gascoyne's play was quite decent". Shemowed and rolled the little lawn at the Parsonage vigorously, markedout the courts with a brush, and persuaded either Beatrice or Winnieto have a game every evening before bedtime, and Father whenever shecould catch him. 

"If only I'd a better racket!" she sighed one night, "it's impossibleto do very much with a wretched old thing that's half sprung. Youshould have seen my serves when Netta lent me hers yesterday!"

"Why don't you buy a new one, then?" suggested Lesbia. "You're theCroesus of the family. Your money box must be bursting, for you'vebeen hoarding up for ages. How much have you got in it?"

"Ah! Wouldn't you like to know!" returned Gwen, suddenly desirous ofchanging the subject. 

"You really might get a new racket, Gwen, " agreed Winnie. "It's a goodidea of Lesbia's. We'd all borrow it on occasion. "

"Oh, I dare say! Very nice for you all, no doubt. Rackets are ratherexpensive little luxuries, my dear girl. Otherwise I'd be happy toaccommodate you. "

"You're a perfect old miser! What are you going to do with yourwealth? Invest it in an annuity?"

"Probably speculate on the Stock Exchange, or take up Mexican mines!"declared Gwen, trying to turn things off with a laugh. 

"Well, you're the only member of the family who keeps any money. "

"A good example in thrift to the rest of you, then!"

Gwen did not dare to complain again about the poorness of her racket, though it was a serious handicap in her games at school, where most ofthe girls came supplied with the very best. In spite of thisimpediment her play improved steadily, and she several times beatLouise Mawson, though she could not vanquish Hilda Brown or CharlottePerry, the champions at present of the Form. 

"I suppose you're going to take swimming, Gwen?" said Netta one day. "Miss Trent says we begin this afternoon. "

"Haven't heard anything about it. Please condescend to enlighten myignorance. "

"Why, don't you know? We're going to the baths every Wednesday. It'sclean-water day, and the whole school's to go in relays. They've aripping teacher of swimming there now, a Miss Morris, who swam theChannel halfway, or did something else marvellous, I forget exactlywhat. Anyway, it's arranged we're to have a proper course of lessons. I expect every girl in the Form will join. "

"It sounds--well, just idyllic!" said Gwen. "Whether I can take it ornot is another question. I shall have to ask at home first. "

"Oh, Mr. Gascoyne's sure to say 'yes'. Why shouldn't he? All girlsought to learn to swim. "

It was impossible to explain to Netta that the fee for the coursemight prove an insurmountable barrier. Gwen was always too proud toplead poverty, and hid her father's narrow circumstances from herschoolmates as well as she could. 

"You won't have time to ask before this afternoon, " said Netta. "Iadvise you to go to the baths, though. I believe the lessons don'tbegin till next week, and this is only what you might call a trialtrip, so you could see how you like it. Miss Trent says we can getbathing dresses there to-day, and bring our own afterwards. "

The Rodenhurst girls had not before been taken to the public baths atStedburgh, and the swimming course was a new departure of MissRoscoe's. The idea proved extremely popular, and almost everybodywanted at least to sample the experiment. 

"Oh, yes, you might go to-day, " said Winnie, whom Gwen caught andconsulted in the passage. "There's no great damage in that. You don'tpledge yourself to take the course. Lesbia can go too. Miss Roscoesaid it was to be a special afternoon. "

"That's all right, then, " said Gwen, rushing jubilantly away. 

She was immensely anxious to learn to swim. The bay at Skelwick was sodangerous that Father would not allow any of them to bathe there, soas yet she had had no chance of testing her skill in natation. Sheloved all kinds of physical sports, they seemed a necessity of heractive, fast-growing young body, and the prospect of trying a newelement was alluring. In the very highest of spirits she joined theprocession of Fifth Form girls that filed off at three o'clock, incharge of Miss Douglas. 

The baths at Stedburgh had only lately been enlarged and re-opened, and in their improved shape were now quite a feature of the town. Theywere supplied with salt water, and could boast great conveniences inthe matter of dressing-rooms, hair-drying apparatus, and plentiful hottowels. Gwen had never been inside before, so she gazed with delightedadmiration, at the ladies' large bath, with its pale-green tiles, itsflights of steps, and its diving board at the deep end. There was acord across the middle, with a big notice that non-swimmers were toventure no farther, and must confine themselves to the shallow end;also that water wings could be hired. 

"I hear Miss Morris won't let her pupils use those, though, " saidNetta. "She calls it an amateurish dodge. I should think we shall haveto hold each other up while we practise our strokes!"

Gwen secured a bathing costume that fitted quite tolerably. She had nomackintosh cap, but she plaited her hair very tightly instead. She didnot much care whether it got wet or not. It was most exciting to rundown the steps and slip into the lovely clear green water. She hadundressed with such record speed that she was actually the first, butshe was very soon joined by a bevy of laughing, squealing maidens. Itwas an amusing, but not a picturesque sight. The Fifth Form attired inbathing costumes were about as different from the academy pictures ofclassical nymphs as a man in the street from a statue of Apollo. Instead of floating about in graceful attitudes, with the "amberdropping hair" of Milton's Sabrina, they "larked" like a school ofporpoises, splashing each other and playing tricks. There was noattempt at a lesson that afternoon. The girls just enjoyed themselvesin their own way, with many cautions from Miss Douglas not to trespassbeyond the danger line. Gwen, held up by Netta, made frantic effortsto try her strokes, though her attempts invariably ended in a plungefrom which she came up spluttering. Netta, with a very little helpfrom Gwen, got on much better, for she had been to the baths before, and had had some practice. Several of the girls were already goodswimmers, and after showing their prowess, were allowed to disportthemselves at the deep end. 

"I shan't be content till I can dive, " declared Gwen, watchingenviously as Elspeth Frazer took a header. "I shouldn't think it'sdifficult when you get the knack. It will be just having the pluck totry. I can float the least little scrap already, so I've learntsomething this afternoon, and so have you. "

"We shall both get on grandly at the lessons, " assented Netta. 

The whole Form agreed unanimously that the experiment was "ripping", and everyone was extremely anxious to come again. Gwen went home madwith enthusiasm, and Lesbia, whose Form had preceded the Fifth, was inequal ecstasies. Both besieged their father with wild entreaties to beallowed to take the course. 

"You haven't told me the fees, and that's a very important point, "said Mr. Gascoyne. 

"I quite forgot to ask, " admitted Gwen, brought down to the mundaneside of the question. "Lesbia, do you know?"

Lesbia shook her head. She rarely knew anything; as a rule otherpeople were ready to manage her affairs for her. 

"Miss Douglas says the swimming course is to be half a guinea each, and admission to the baths threepence a time. There is a specialarrangement for schools, " said Winnie, supplying the neededinformation. 

"Then I must think it over, " returned Father. "Times are bad just now, chicks, and I don't know whether I can afford it. A curacy is not afat living, remember, and there are seven of you!"

Very much sobered, the enthusiastic bathers betook themselves to theirpreparation. 

"I wish everything nice didn't cost money!" sighed Gwen. 

She broached the subject to Beatrice during the evening. 

"I've been talking about it to Father, " said the latter. "I'm afraidhe can't manage it for you both, but he might possibly for one. Itwill be a choice between you and Lesbia. "

"I'm the eldest!" urged Gwen quickly. 

"Yes, I know you are, but on the other hand, it really is Lesbia'sturn, because you took the St. John's Ambulance last winter at theParish Room, and Lesbia didn't. "

"Swimming's a million times nicer than ambulance!"

"It's not any more useful. Don't be selfish, Gwen! You know how hardup we are. We can't all of us do everything, and I think this time itcertainly ought to be Lesbia. "

Gwen kicked the orchard gate against which they were leaning, andtried to keep down a lump that rose in her throat. Beatrice'sarguments were unanswerable. 

"It'll be sickening to be the only one in the Form who doesn't takeswimming, " she said at last. "Every single girl will join except me. Ishall have to stop behind and do prep. Instead. I'll feel more utterlyout of things than ever. "

"You could pay for the course yourself, if you like, " suggestedBeatrice. "What have you done with all your money?"

Gwen's restless hands were hacking notches on the top bar of the gate. Her penknife slipped suddenly, and cut her finger. 

"Your own fault, if you will be so clumsy!" said Beatrice. "Comeindoors, and I'll tie it up for you. You'd better hold it under thecold-water tap first. "

Gwen groaned in spirit as she went to bed that night. 

"I shall never hear the last of that wretched fifteen shillings!" shethought "I feel like Mr. Caudle in the _Curtain Lectures_, when he'dlent a five-pound note to a friend. That money of mine was to havebought Christmas presents, and boots for Johnnie Cass, and a newtennis racket, and paid for the swimming, and I don't know what else, according to my family's ideas. Oh, dear! Being poor's a hatefulbusiness! I wish Dad were Archbishop of Canterbury, instead of onlyCurate-in-charge of Skelwick Bay!"

CHAPTER XIV

Gwen meets Trouble

 "There's a sickening author called Virgil, Don't I wish I were chanting his dirge--ill! As a door-nail he's dead Yet his works live instead, And to me they're a regular scourge--ill!"

So sang Netta, banging down her copy of _Æneid I_ and _II_ with aforce that almost dissevered its cover and made the desk ring. 

"I call it absolute sickening nonsense, " she continued energetically. "Why in the name of all common sense should we girls in this moderntwentieth century be expected to bother our precious heads overantiquated old rubbish that would be far better consigned to decentburial? What's the use of it, I want to know?"

"'An admirable training for the intellect', my dear! to quoteThistles, " said Annie Edwards. "According to her theory you ought tofeel your mind sprouting at every fresh page, and sending out shootsof wisdom. "

"Sprouting, indeed! Just the other way!" grunted Netta. "Latin has aparalysing effect upon my brain. Instead of sharpening me it deadensmy faculties. When I've been trying to construe a page of Virgil, myintellect feels a pulp. "

"Then the obvious moral is, don't try!" yawned Millicent Cooper. 

"I don't. "

"No more you do, you old slacker!"

"Why should one try when one can scrape through without?"

"Not an easy thing if Thistles puts you on a difficult bit! Have youmade any sense out of this part? It's uncommonly stiff. "

"Not I--I shall throw myself as usual on Gwen's mercy. Come here, Gwendolen mine, that's a sweet angelic cherub, and interpret theseabominable lines!"

Gwen came rather reluctantly. Of late Netta had grown into the habitof applying to her for help with her extremely ill-prepared work, andthe habit was assuming proportions that Gwen did not like. At first ithad only been a word or two, then an odd sentence, but it was rapidlydeveloping into a demand for a translation of the whole lesson. 

"Oh, I say, Netta, you make me a regular henchman!" she objected. "Whyshould I act as providence to you continually?"

"Because you know the lesson, my hearty, and I don't. Ergo, it is yourduty and privilege to impart your information to me. "

"Don't always see my privileges. "

"Then you ought. If you're helped, you ought to help others. "

"I'm not helped!"

"Oh, Gwen! I'm sure Grinnie helps you at home!" broke out MillicentCooper. 

"She doesn't! She doesn't, indeed! I do all my prep, by myself. "

"Can you actually swear on your honour she's never once helped you?"said Annie Edwards. 

"On my hon--" began Gwen, then stopped and stammered lamely. "Well, atleast, there was once--"

The recollection had struck her of the evening when she had caught therat in the hen-coop. She had been so upset and flurried on thatoccasion that she had certainly applied to Winnie for assistance witha passage that she could not have otherwise prepared. 

"Once!" sneered Annie. "Oh, no doubt! Everybody in the Form knows howit is you get on so well with your work!"

"I get no help at home!" declared Millicent self-righteously. 

"Oh, drop drivelling, and let Gwen alone! She's got to tell me theselines, " said Netta. "What do I care how she prepares her work? Come, Gwen, ma-vourneen, be a real friend!"

As Gwen translated the passage Netta wrote it rapidly down in pencil, and even Annie and Millicent, in spite of their condemnations ofassisted preparations, seized their books and followed the wordscarefully. 

"A particularly nasty bit--I could never do it if I tried half a year. Thanks awfully!" said Netta, slipping the paper inside her _Æneid_. 

"Netta, you're not going to--"

"Never mind what I'm going to do. My concerns are my own, " returnedNetta airily. "I'm an unlucky person, and I'm sure to get the worstpiece if there is one. It's Kismet. "

Gwen's desk was close to Netta's, and when the Virgil class began shecould not help noticing the latter pop the scrap of paper on her kneeunder cover of a pocket handkerchief. 

Miss Douglas followed no fixed order in the Form; she called on anygirl she wished to translate, choosing from back or front desks withstrictest impartiality. As Netta had predicted, the difficult passagefell to her lot. To the surprise of almost the whole Form she came offwith flying colours. Though Annie and Millicent had strong suspicions, only Gwen had seen the little piece of paper hidden under Netta'shandkerchief. At lunch time she flew out on the subject. 

"Look here, Netta, " she began grimly, "helping you a little is onething, but I'm not going to act crib for you again; so just don'tthink it. "

"What do you mean?" gasped Netta sharply. 

"What I say. You'd better prepare your own Virgil next time. "

"Aren't you going to help me any more?" There was an unpleasant lookin Netta's eyes. 

"Not when you write it out and crib. "

"It was only one scrap. Don't be horrid, Gwen!"

"I like things square, and they've not been quite straight lately. I'mgoing to put a stop to it, so I give you warning. "

"Won't you tell me just the hard bits?"

"Not a single sentence. "

"Then you're a mean, stingy thing, Gwen Gascoyne! I don't know why youshould have taken it into your head all of a sudden to be sosanctimonious. You've not been so remarkably square before that youneed turn saint now. You promised you'd stand by me, and this is howyou keep your word, is it? I'll know better another time than to helpyou. You may get out of your own scrapes as best you can. I'll pay youfor this, Gwen Gascoyne! I'll catch you tripping some time, see if Idon't--and then--" and with a significant nod Netta turned away. 

"You can do anything you like; I don't care, " grunted Gwen. 

She was out of temper that morning, for it was swimming day, and thethought of the rest of the Form jaunting off to the baths without herfilled her with despair. She did not speak to Netta during the dinnerhour, nor did the latter seek her company. 

"What have those two quarrelled about? I thought they were ever sochummy, " said Charlotte Perry to Elspeth Frazer. 

"I'm sure I don't know. It would be a good thing for Gwen Gascoyne ifshe did quarrel with Netta, in my opinion. "

"Then she'd be in a set by herself! Perhaps she thinks 'better Nettathan nobody'. "

"Better nobody than Netta, I should say. Do you know, Charlotte, Idon't believe Gwen's half bad by herself, if only Netta would let heralone. It's when they get together they're so silly. "

"Um--perhaps you're right. Gwen's straight, whatever else she is, andone can't say that for Netta. "

"Hardly! I vote we watch them, and if they really are out of friends, we'll see if we can do anything with Gwen. It's rather rough on her tobe such an outcast. "

"Pity she's not as nice as Lesbia. "

"Do you know, " said Elspeth reflectively, "I'm not sure that shemayn't be at bottom. Of course Lesbia's awfully sweet-tempered, butthen she's made such a fuss of, and there's really nothing in her. Now, I think there is something in Gwen, if she were taken the rightway. I didn't like her at all at first, I don't know that I even dovery much now, but I fancy she's one of those girls whom one might getto like if one saw the other side of her--I'm certain she has anotherside, only it never comes out at school. "

"It isn't nice of her to rag her own sister, though. "

"That's Netta's fault; she starts all the ragging and throws it on toGwen. "

"I'd be glad if I could really think so, " returned Charlotte, andthere for the moment the matter ended. 

That afternoon a joyful, jubilant, rejoicing crew of Fifth Formers setoff for the baths, duly armed with their costumes and mackintosh caps, and from the window of the classroom one dejected, miserable girlwatched them depart. Gwen thought she had never felt quite so forlornin her life before. She was aggrieved with Fate, and kept muttering, "Hard luck! hard luck!" to herself as the last school hat whiskedround the corner. 

"I didn't see Netta, " she thought, and then turned, for she heardNetta's indignant, protesting voice in the passage outside in loudaltercation with Miss Trent. 

"It's no use, Netta, I can't allow it, " the mistress was saying. "Withthat sniffly cold in your head it would be folly to bathe, and as yousay your mother is away from home, and you could not ask herpermission this morning, I must be the judge, and I say mostemphatically no. "

"But, Miss Trent! If I just--"

"Not another word, Netta! Go into your own Form room at once, and dosome preparation. Do you want me to report you to Miss Roscoe? Thengo, this instant!"

A very sulky, angry, rebellious, disconsolate Netta flung herselfthrough the doorway and flounced to her desk. She gave one stare atGwen, and, frowning, began to get out her books. 

"We're companions in misfortune!" ventured Gwen, but Netta took notthe very slightest notice. 

"Oh, very well, madam; if you're going to cut me I'll cut you!"thought Gwen, and she turned to the window again. 

There was no mistress in the room, and Gwen knew that for the nexthour she could practically do as she liked. She would begin herpreparation soon and finish some of it before she went home, but therewas no particular hurry. The window commanded a view of a side streetand just a peep into the main street, and it amused her at present tostand watching the passers-by. They were not remarkablyenthralling--an old gentleman in a Bath chair, a nursemaid wheelingtwo babies in a perambulator, a baker's boy, a young woman with alarge parcel, a vendor of boot laces, and a man delivering circulars. Gwen looked at them with languid attention, drumming her fingers idlyon the window sill; then quite suddenly an expression of keen interestflashed across her face and she leaned out over the protecting ironbars. 

"Dick!" she called loudly and impulsively, "Dick!"

The boy on the pavement below stopped and gazed up. 

"Hello! Why, Gwen, by all that's wonderful!"

"What are you doing in Stedburgh, Dick?"

"Come in to have my hair cut, Miss Inquisitive, if you must know!"

"Oh, what a shame! I like it curly best. Have you had it done?"

"The fatal operation has been performed, " said Dick, uncovering hisclosely-cropped head for a moment. 

"And what are you going to do now?"

"Go home again. "

"I wish I could, " sighed Gwen. 

"Are you supposed to be in school?" queried Dick. 

"Of course I am, silly! I'm in my own Form room. "

"Must be a queer sort of school, then, if they let you talk at thewindow. "

"They don't as a rule. But the others have all gone to the bathsto-day and I'm left here to do prep. "

"Hard luck!"

"Just what I've been saying to myself. It's simply sickening. You knowwhat it feels like to be out of things. "

"Don't I, rather!"

[Illustration: "OH, I SAY, WELL CAUGHT!"]

"I feel like a captive in a tower or a nun in a convent, " continuedGwen plaintively. 

"Not much of the nun about you!" grinned Dick. "I'd be sorry for theconvent you were in. Look here, if I got you some sweets and chuckedup the bag would you catch it or muff it?"

"Try me. "

"If you muff it I'll expect you to throw it down again. "

"Right-o!"

"Then wait half a mo. And I'll cut round the corner to Sherrard's andsee what I can fish up for you. You really look like an object forcharity. "

"You philanthropist!"

"Better wait till you've caught your catch before you bless me!"chuckled Dick. 

He was certainly not gone long; he returned almost immediately with amost interesting-looking paper bag in his hand. 

"Oh, do tell me, is it chocolate or caramels?" asked Gwen eagerly. 

"Find out, madam! Now we'll see if I'm a good shot and if you're abutter-fingers. Are you ready? All right then, here goes! Oh, I say, well caught! Good old girl!"

"Told you I'd do it. Thanks most awfully! Have you kept any foryourself? Then take--"

"Gwen Gascoyne!" said a stern voice suddenly at her elbow. 

Gwen jumped as if she had been shot, and turning guiltily, foundherself face to face with Miss Trent. By the door stood Netta invisible triumph. 

"Gwen Gascoyne, " said Miss Trent again, "is this the way you conductyourself when you're left to do your preparation? You're a disgrace tothe school--an absolute disgrace! We had thought our Rodenhurst girlscould be trusted to behave themselves. "

"I was only talking to Dick, " urged Gwen in self-defence. 

"Is Dick your brother?"

"No--but--"

"Then you ought to be utterly ashamed of yourself. Such an affair hasnever happened at Rodenhurst before. I sincerely hope nobody in thestreet or in the houses opposite noticed the occurrence. It would beenough to spoil the reputation of the school. "

"I didn't know I was doing anything so dreadful!" retorted Gwen. 

"Then it's time you learnt. Miss Roscoe will have to hear about this. Report yourself in the study at four o'clock, and go at once to yourdesk and begin your preparation. Put that paper bag on themantelpiece, I can't allow you to keep it. "

Miss Trent sat down on Miss Douglas's vacant chair, evidently with theintention of staying in the room to act Gorgon. Gwen walked to herdesk in the depths of humiliation. She caught Netta's glance as shewent by, and it seemed to add insult to injury. 

"I know who sneaked, " she thought. "Very well, Netta Goodwin, I'vedone with you. You may tell any tales of me you like now; nothingwould ever induce me to be friends with you again. In for a penny infor a pound. I expect you'll cut up nasty about that china business, but I feel as if I don't care. I'm booked for an awful row with MissRoscoe! Oh, Dick, your sweets were well meant, but you little knowwhat they're going to cost me!"

Gwen had a very hazy remembrance of how she did her preparation thatafternoon. She wrote a French exercise almost automatically, feelingthe mistress's eye upon her the whole time. At four o'clock, with herheart somewhere in the region of her shoes, she reported herself inthe study. Miss Trent had been beforehand; so when she entered MissRoscoe was already aware of the nature and extent of her crime. Theheadmistress was not disposed to make light of the affair; like MissTrent, she considered that the reputation of the school might beseriously compromised by Gwen's behaviour, and she did not spare theculprit. Gwen did not often cry at school, but on this occasion sheleft the Principal's room weeping like Niobe, and poor Winnie, who hadbeen called in to hear the tail end of the lecture, followed blinkinga little on her own account. 

"You do such lunatic things, Gwen, " said Winnie on the way home. 

"I meant no harm, " protested the still tearful Niobe. 

"I dare say you don't, but they're stupid things all the same. Youmight have known you'd get into trouble. I shall scold Dick about it. "

"It wasn't his fault. "

"Well, it's been a silly business all round, and why Miss Roscoeshould send for me and talk as if I were partly responsible I can'timagine, " said the aggrieved Winnie. "It's bad enough to have to teachin class without being blamed for what no person in her senses couldconsider my fault. "

"That's Miss Roscoe all over, " gulped Gwen. "If she's angry she mustfizz whether there's justice in it or not. I'm fearfully sorry, Win!It's too bad you were dragged in. "

"Well, I suppose it can't be helped now, " said Winnie, somewhatmollified. "Miss Roscoe's storms are soon over, that's one blessing. Iexpect by to-morrow she'll have calmed down. You'll be in disgrace fora while, but she'll forget about it. "

"What became of the sweets?" asked Lesbia. 

"Left them on the chimneypiece and I expect the housemaid willcommandeer them. I daren't ask for them, I can tell you. "

Next morning the lower sashes of the Fifth Form room windows werefound firmly screwed down, and the glass had received a coat of whitepaint put on the outside, so that not even a peephole could bescratched from within. The girls whose desks had formerly commanded aview were savage; even Miss Douglas wore an air of plaintiveresignation. 

"Might have known it would be Gwen Gascoyne who would bring herselfinto such a mess!" said Charlotte Perry. 

"Um--I've a notion Netta set the ball rolling, " returned ElspethFrazer. 

CHAPTER XV

Storm Clouds

It was only a few days after this that a letter arrived for Mr. Gascoyne which almost turned the little Parsonage upside down. Gwencould tell from Father's manner that something had happened, he seemedso unusually agitated, so perplexed, and sometimes so absent-mindedthat he forgot all that was going on around him. Something was wrong, argued Gwen, and as she did not like to question Father himself, sheplucked up her courage and asked Beatrice. 

"Well, I suppose there's no reason why you shouldn't know, so long asyou don't chatter about it, " said the latter. "I think you can betrusted to keep a secret?"

"If it's Dad's secret, " returned Gwen. 

"Well, the fact is, Dad's had a living offered to him. You needn'tjump and clap your hands, for it's nothing at all out of theway--indeed he hardly knows whether to accept it or not. It's a gooddeal better from a money point of view than this curacy, but there areobjections. "

"Where is it?"

"That's one of the chief objections. It's in a very poor part of acrowded manufacturing town, a place black with huge chimneys that sendout clouds of smoke, where there's hardly a blade of grass, and thevery trees are all blighted with the chemicals in the air. Fatherknows the place well; he was curate there for a short time just afterhis ordination. He called it Sodom-and-Gomorrah-mixed then, and it'sprobably worse instead of improved, for they've built more chemicalworks, he hears. "

"Oh!" said Gwen, her enthusiasm very much damped. "But he's surely notgoing to accept it?"

"I don't know. There are many things to be considered. We're a bigfamily, and the boys have got to be educated somehow. I don't know howit's to be done here. "

"There's the Stedburgh Grammar School. "

"Yes, but how are we to manage the fees? Winnie can't go and teachthere to equalize their school bills! If we went to Rawtenbeck, theycould all three be sent to King Edward's College. It's certainly aninducement. "

"And we should have to leave the Parsonage, and the garden, andeverything at Skelwick!"

"Yes; that's the terrible part. Father's simply torn in two. He's doneso much for Skelwick. Think what it was when he came! And now there'sthe Mission Room at Basingwold, and the Lads' Club, and the Library, and the Men's Class, and the Temperance Union, and all the Guilds. Perhaps, if he went, another curate might come who took no interest inthem, and they would all go to pieces. "

"Dad would be fearfully missed if he went. "

"Yes; but there's another side even to that. He's only curate here, and if Mr. Sutton were to die, and a new rector came to North Ditton, Dad would be expected to resign. Curates always do when there's achange of incumbent; it's clerical etiquette. Mr. Sutton is such anold man that, you see, this may happen any time, so Dad can't feelreally settled here. "

"I wish he were rector instead of only curate!" sighed Gwen. 

"Ah, so do I! But Skelwick isn't a parish by itself, it's only a partof North Ditton. If Dad accepts the living of Rawtenbeck he'll be avicar then, and he says there's any amount of work to be done in theplace. The church has been fearfully slack! He hardly knows whichneeds him most, Skelwick or Rawtenbeck. "

"When must he make up his mind?"

"Fortunately, not immediately. The Bishop has given him six weeks tothink it over before he need decide. "

"Then we've six weeks' reprieve, " said Gwen. 

She was extremely agitated at the news. She had often thought in avague way how nice it would be if her father were appointed to aliving, but she had never anticipated such a change as this. To removeto a smoky, dirty manufacturing town, where even the trees wereblighted with chemicals! The proposition seemed intolerable. Gwenhurried out of the garden and climbed a little way up the headland atthe back of the house. It was Saturday morning, and there were plentyof tasks to be done at home, but at the present she felt she must bealone with her thoughts. To leave Skelwick--to go away from all thisand perhaps never see it again! She sat down on a rock, and took along comprehensive look over the whole landscape. 

There were the cliffs, and the headland, and the great wide stretch ofrolling, shimmering sea, and the little red sails of the fishingsmacks far out on the blue horizon; below her stretched the village, with its irregular red roofs and gay patches of flower gardens, andthe shingly cove where some of the boats lay beached. She could justsee the chimneys of the Parsonage, and the corner of the tennis lawnwhere Martin was playing with Jingles, and a scrap of the common whereWinnie's hens were pecking in the coarse grass. Above the village, aconspicuous object against the sky, rose their little church of St. John the Baptist, standing on the high headland at the very edge ofthe bare wold, as Father often said, like a voice crying in thewilderness. Who would come there, she wondered, if Dad went? Skelwickwas only a chapel-of-ease to North Ditton, and before Mr. Gascoyne'stime the place had been much neglected. No resident clergyman hadlived there, and though a curate had come from the Parish Church atNorth Ditton to take Sunday services, no attempt had been made to gethold of the rough fisher folk in the district. It had been uphillwork, and with very little assistance or encouragement, for Mr. Sutton, the rector, was old and in delicate health, and quite unableto take any active part; indeed, for many years he had never visitedSkelwick or the neighbouring hamlets. 

"Everything worth having here is owing to Dad, " thought Gwen. "Idon't know how he'd ever bear to leave it. "

She could not contemplate the idea of the smoky Vicarage atRawtenbeck. Though she sometimes dreamt of how she would go out intothe world and do things when she grew up, she had always imagined theParsonage as a place that would still be there for her to come home towhenever she wished, even from the wilds of Canada. She loved everyinch of the dear little house, and every clump of flowers in thegarden was like a friend. 

"As far as homes and houses go I'm a rank old Conservative. I hatebeing uprooted, " said Gwen to herself. 

She felt so unsettled she could not go back at present. Herpreparation must wait, and she would take a walk higher up on the woldto try and recover her equanimity. The fresher air of the headlandalways calmed her when she was annoyed or irritable. 

For some time she strolled on rather aimlessly among the heather andthe gorse bushes, watching the birds or the grasshoppers, and sittingdown every now and then to drink in a fuller enjoyment of the scene. She was quite alone, and to-day at any rate Gwen loved solitude. No--after all she had not the moor entirely to herself. Over a ridgeof bracken loomed a funny little black figure, which seemed to bemoving in her direction. As it came nearer she could make out that itwas a little old gentleman, very small and thin and wizened, with aface as yellow as parchment, and a long, hooked nose, and eyes set ina mass of wrinkles. His clothes did not fit him particularly well, and were ill cut, and his hat was decidedly shabby. He walked alongpeering through his glasses as if he were shortsighted, andoccasionally even feeling his way with a cane which he carried. Whenhe saw Gwen he hastened towards her with an appearance of relief. 

"I'm so glad to find somebody in this wild place, " he began, in afunny little cracked voice that matched his face and figure. "Can youtell me if I am very far away from the village of Skelwick?"

"About two miles, " replied Gwen, wondering who the stranger could be. 

"Indeed! And in which direction may the place lie? I'm afraid I amrather out of my reckoning;" and he pulled a road map from his pocketand held it within two inches of his eyes. 

"It's down there to the left, but the path's a little hard to find. You have to be careful you don't go through the wrong gap and walkover the edge of the cliff. "

"Tut-tut-tut! Such spots ought to be marked 'Dangerous' on the maps. Ishall write to the publishers and tell them so. As far as I understandnow I am standing exactly here?" and he handed the rather dilapidatedsheet to Gwen for verification. 

"What a queer old crank!" she thought; but she answered civilly, andtried to identify the particular spot, as he seemed so anxious aboutit. 

"Thank you! If you will put a cross at the point where you considerthere is a dangerous gap I shall be obliged, and will endeavour toavoid the place, " he remarked. 

[Illustration: "YES, YOU CAN EASILY GO MILES OUT OF YOUR WAY"]

"I am going back to Skelwick myself, and I could show you the way ifyou like, " returned Gwen, moved with a sudden compassion for the fraillittle figure, a whole head shorter than her stalwart self. 

"If it will not be incommoding you, I shall be glad to avail myself ofyour offer. I am a trifle shortsighted, and these moorland paths areconfusing. "

"Yes, you can easily go miles out of your way, " agreed Gwen, wonderingagain who the stranger could be. 

He did not look like an ordinary tourist, and as they walked togetherover the wold he began to make a number of enquiries about Skelwickand the people who lived there. He was an artful questioner, and Gwen, almost before she realized what she was doing, gave him a full anddetailed history of the neighbourhood, including what it had beenbefore Father came, and what it was now. 

"Of course some of them still drink, but they're better than theywere, " she said. "Six years ago most of the fishermen wouldn't go neara service, and spent all Sunday with bottles of whisky in that littlecabin on the shore, the very one Dad's made into a newsroom now. Idon't know what the place would do without him if he really--" buthere she stopped in great distress, remembering she was letting outthe secret which Beatrice had strictly enjoined her to keep. 

The blinking, shortsighted eyes did not seem to take any notice of herconfusion. The old gentleman twitched his mouth hard, and then merelyremarked:

"It's well to be a favourite in one's parish. "

"I wish it were Dad's parish!" said Gwen, following up her privatetrain of thought. "If Skelwick were a separate living of its own, quite apart from North Ditton, he could do so much more. It'sfearfully hampering to be under another church that's such a long wayoff. It doesn't give Dad a free hand at all. "

"Yes--yes--yes; exactly so, " commented the stranger, wrinkling up hisforehead into thick lines. 

He was very silent after this, as if he were turning something over inhis mind, and Gwen, who began to think she had chattered too much, walked along trying to remember what she had said. They had almostreached the village by now; the sun was glaring on the red roofs belowthem and on the white highroad which led to North Ditton. 

"This is my short cut back to the Parsonage, " said Gwen, stopping at astile; "but if you want the 'King's Arms' you must go along thatfootpath to the right. "

"Thank you! I shall get some lunch there, and then go on to NorthDitton. By the by, what time is your evening service on Sunday?"

"Half-past six, " replied Gwen, wondering as she turned away why astranger who was evidently only passing through Skelwick should asksuch a question. 

"Mere curiosity, I suppose, " she thought. "He seems an inquisitive oldfellow. "

She told her experiences to Beatrice and Winnie, but they had no moreidea than herself of the identity of the little old gentleman. 

"Some tourist on a walking tour, I expect, " said Beatrice. "You werequite right to show him the way; but you really must be careful, Gwen, and not talk so freely to chance people whom you meet. I'drather you didn't go on the moors quite alone. Take one of the boysnext time. "

"Stumps is a far worse blabber than I am!" laughed Gwen. "He'd havegiven the most intimate details of our household arrangements, andwhat we were going to have for dinner to-day. Perhaps have added aninvitation!"

"Which would surely not have been accepted. "

"I don't know! Such an eccentric old fellow might be capable ofanything. I shall look out for him in church to-morrow evening. "

And much to Gwen's surprise he was actually there. He turned up ratherlate--during the singing of the first Psalm, in fact--and left in themiddle of the hymn after the sermon. He sat on one of the benchesclose to the door, and Gwen would hardly have known of his presencehad she not recognized the peculiar way in which he cleared histhroat, which attracted her attention to him. 

"Who was that stranger, Robert?" she asked the clerk afterwards. 

"Don't know at all, Miss Gwen. I never see him in my life before. Funny old chap, weren't he? But he put a half-crown in the platebefore he left! We don't get many half-crowns at Skelwick; it's mostlypennies and threepennybits, with a few sixpences, as I collect. "

"Perhaps he just came over from North Ditton for the walk; he seems tobe fond of walking, and perhaps he wanted to see the village bysunset, " said Gwen. "I wish he'd stayed five minutes longer andspoken to Father. He always likes to welcome strangers who come to thechurch. "

"And those bean't a-many, " returned the clerk as he locked the bigdoor. 

It was a little incident, and seemed quite unimportant at the time. Gwen dismissed it quickly from her mind, for she had very many otherthings to think about just then, things that seemed paramount and farmore interesting and exciting than chance tourists who askedquestions. 

But she was to hear of the eccentric old gentleman again. 

CHAPTER XVI

First Aid

Gwen's quarrel with Netta was so complete that the two were no longeron speaking terms. Gwen was very apprehensive lest her former chumshould carry out her old threat and betray the secret of the brokenchina, and in the first heat of her anger Netta had been inclined todo so; on further reflection, however, she decided that theconsequences might be too compromising to herself, and that it wouldbe safer to preserve silence. She had already scored by fetching MissTrent into the schoolroom during Gwen's conversation with Dick, andthe trouble which had ensued was almost enough to satisfy her. ReallyNetta had been rather tired of Gwen before this, and she was not sorryto seize upon an excuse for breaking their friendship. She now took uphotly with Annie Edwards, and the pair were for the momentinseparable. 

"I believe it's as I thought, " said Elspeth Frazer to Charlotte Perry;"Gwen Gascoyne's quite off with Netta. Now, if she can only get into abetter set she may be a different girl. I want to find out what she'sreally like, so I'm going to be nice to her to-morrow when we go thegeological excursion. "

"Perhaps we have been rather horrid to her, " returned Charlottethoughtfully. 

"It was mostly her own fault for putting on airs when she first cameup, and then making such friends with Netta. She couldn't expect anyof us to have anything to say to her after that. "

"Probably she didn't know Netta. "

"I dare say not; but it shows she's a bad judge of character. All thesame I've got Gwen a little on my conscience, and I'm going to trywhat I can do. She may improve now. "

Elspeth spoke the truth when she said that she had Gwen on herconscience. It had occurred to her several times lately that perhapsshe had misunderstood her schoolfellow, and that she might have donemore to help her. "Am I my brother's keeper?" rose uneasily to hermind. She had an uncomfortable feeling that in happier circumstancesGwen might have made a better impression on the Form, and that she andHilda and Edith and Louise were partly responsible for her illreception. 

"I'm very sorry if we've been Pharisees!" she thought. "Of course onewanted to keep to one's own set, and not have anything to do with thetag-end of the Form--but--Well, I mean to give Gwen Gascoyne a chancenow, anyhow. "

The geological excursion was rather an event of the term. The Form hadbeen learning geology with Miss Roberts, who promised to take thegirls for an afternoon to Riggness, a place a few miles away on thecoast, greatly noted for its fossils, where they could have apractical demonstration to supplement the information in theirtextbooks. On the Friday afternoon chosen for the ramble everybodystarted armed with hammers of all varieties, from Miss Roberts'sbeautiful geological pick to stout tack hammers and even toffeehammers. 

"One never knows--one might find an ichthyosaurus embedded in thecliffs!" declared Charlotte Perry, brandishing a wooden mallet and aniron wedge, as if she were prepared to clear away tons of rock in thepursuit of her researches. 

"Don't I wish we could!" said Miss Roberts. "But I'm afraid a fewammonites and belemnites will have to content us; those are quitedifficult enough to get out intact. We shall do very well if we canonly bring back some really perfect specimens for the school museum. "

Riggness was on the other side of Stedburgh from Skelwick, and Gwenhad never been there before, so the excursion was new to her. It wasgreat fun going with the whole Form; the girls had come well preparedto enjoy themselves, and Miss Roberts also was in a jolly frame ofmind, and had even brought with her a box of chocolates, which shehanded round impartially till the contents vanished. Threecompartments seemed to overflow with Rodenhurst hats. Gwen had justbeen following Millicent Cooper and Minna Jennings when Elspeth Frazergripped her by the arm. 

"Come in here with us, Gwen, " she said, and Gwen, too much astonishedfor words, complied. Why she should be invited into a carriage withHilda Browne, Charlotte Perry, Iris Watson, Louise Mawson, and EdithArnold, the most elect set in the Form, was beyond her comprehension, but it was a very pleasant circumstance all the same. To be sure, they did not take much notice of her, but they were not disagreeable, and Elspeth spoke to her more than once in quite a friendly fashion. It was so utterly different from their former attitude towards herthat Gwen almost believed she was dreaming. Perhaps it was onlybecause they were on a holiday this afternoon, she thought, andto-morrow they would be as usual again. Well, at any rate, she wouldtake advantage of to-day, and make the most of her opportunities, soshe chatted a little with Elspeth, and sat ruminating over thisamazing change of front on the part of those girls whom Netta, inmockery, had nicknamed "The Saints". Riggness was reached in twentyminutes, the train stopped at the small wayside station, and theRodenhurst party got out in a hurry. They were to descend to thebeach, and walk along the shore to Linkthwaite Bay, a distance ofabout three miles, geologizing as they went. A steep zigzag path leddown the side of the cliff to the sands, and when once her flock wasall collected at the bottom, Miss Roberts improved the occasion bygiving a short lecture on the formation of the rocks which formed theheadland, then, leading the way, she showed them how to hunt about forthe ammonites embedded in the face of the cliffs, or the longbelemnites that could be seen in flat terraces of rocks at the water'sedge. 

"Miss Roberts is right--they're uncommonly difficult to get outwhole, " said Elspeth, tapping gingerly round a particularly finespecimen; "just when you think you've done it, they go smash. "

"It's most aggravating, " agreed Gwen, whose heavy hammer, borrowedfrom Winnie's hen-yard, had been rather too forcible in its effects. "I'd almost got the loveliest, biggest belemnite, and it broke intothree pieces like a slate pencil. "

"I like my toffee hammer best, " said Charlotte, tenderly fingering oneor two good specimens which she had managed to secure. "I mean to saveup and buy a real geological one like Miss Roberts's. "

Tapping the rocks was a fascinating occupation, and a fairlyprofitable one, for this part of the coast was rich in fossils. By thetime the girls had walked a mile along the shore they had all beenable to procure some souvenirs, though as yet nothing of very specialimportance. Miss Roberts looked about with a practised eye, and thepick end of her hammer would withdraw a specimen neatly, whereclumsier blows worked havoc. 

"We'll hurry on a little farther now, " she said. "Those cliffs in themiddle of the bay are a particularly good hunting ground, and ifthere's anything interesting to be found, we ought to find it there. "

At the place in question the rocks were intersected by a narrow gorge, where a small stream trickled its way from the moorlands above. Theshelving platforms of the cliff were here comparatively easy to climb, and the action of water and weather combined had carried down a massof stones and debris that would be worth investigation. Miss Robertswas as active and enthusiastic as any of the girls; she jumped lightlyfrom stone to stone, tapping likely spots with her hammer, andfinally, seeing something protruding from a rock above, began to scalethe face of the cliff. 

"I believe I've got something here at last!" she called. 

"Oh! what is it?" cried the eager girls. 

"I can't tell yet till I've cleared it a little. "

"Oh! Is it an ichthyosaurus, do you think?" cried Charlotte Perry. 

"I'm going to send down a shower of stones--stand out of the way!"commanded Miss Roberts, and balancing herself nimbly on a narrowledge, she swung her hammer vigorously. 

Then exactly what happened nobody quite knew. Down came the stones, rattling like an avalanche, and down with them came Miss Roberts, falling with a heavy thud upon a piece of rock below. It was soutterly sudden and unexpected that the girls stood for a moment inspeechless consternation, then Hilda, Elspeth, and one or two othersran to the teacher's assistance. Miss Roberts lay at first as if shewere almost stunned, then she tried to rise, and fell back with agroan. 

"Do you know, " she said quite calmly, "I'm very much afraid I'vebroken my leg. " And then she closed her eyes, and turned very white. 

The girls stared at one another in helpless dismay. Miss Roberts, theleader and head of the expedition, who was accustomed to give orderswhich they promptly obeyed, to be lying there injured and halffainting! The situation was unparalleled. Hilda Browne looked atElspeth Frazer for inspiration, and Elspeth shook her head and lookedat Charlotte Perry, but Charlotte only began to cry, while IrisWatson, Louise Mawson, Edith Arnold, and Rachel Hunter stood in utterindecision. Not one of them had the least idea what to do. 

Then Gwen stepped forward. Seeing the elder and more influentialmembers of the party collected round the governess, she, the youngestgirl in the Form, and the one whose opinion had been hitherto scouted, had not ventured to interfere, but as nobody seemed to be doinganything at all, she felt licensed to come to the front. 

"I took the St. John's Ambulance Course last winter, and passed theexamination, " she said quietly. "I know how to give first aid. PerhapsI'd better try and find out where Miss Roberts is hurt. Can't any ofyou get some water?" and she knelt down by the mistress's side, andbegan very gently to feel for the extent of the injuries. 

The girls were so relieved that anybody had a knowledge of what oughtto be done, that they readily allowed Gwen to assume theresponsibility. Louise Mawson flew to the stream, and fetched somewater in her hat, while Iris helped to unbutton Miss Roberts's boot. The unfortunate teacher revived a little with the water. 

"It's my left leg, below the knee--I felt it crack as I fell, " shegasped painfully. 

"I'm afraid it's rather a bad fracture, too, " said Gwen, when she hadfinished examining her patient. 

"Oh! what are we to do?" moaned Louise. 

"Can we carry her back to Riggness?" suggested Hilda. 

"We mustn't move her an inch till we've put her leg in splints, " saidGwen. "I believe it's only a simple fracture, but it might becomecompound with the least jolt. Elspeth, will you take hold of herfoot--yes, the left one, of course--and pull it very gently. "

"I--I daren't touch her!" shivered Elspeth, who had turned almost aswhite as Miss Roberts. 

"I will--I don't mind!" said Charlotte, and she did what was requiredunder Gwen's directions. 

"Now you must hold it like that till we get some splints, " continuedGwen. "You see, if the muscles contract, the rough ends of the brokenbone might pierce a blood vessel, or do dreadful damage. Some of youbring some sand and make a pillow under her head, then she'll be morecomfortable. What we want next are the splints. "

Many willing hands obeyed Gwen's orders. In less than a few minutesthe sand was heaped under Miss Roberts's head and shoulders, whileLouise constantly wetted her forehead and lips with water. Gwen, witha few assistants, had gone in quest of splints. She had spied somehazel bushes farther up the gorge, which she thought might suffice forher purpose. Up the steep bed of the stream the girls climbed, splashing recklessly in and out of the water, to save time being theirmain object. 

"They'll have to be thick pieces, and long too, " said Gwen. "Theyought to go from above the knee to below the foot. Whose penknife issharpest?"

Nobody's was very sharp, and the girls had to hack and hew away slowlyand painfully before they could make the least impression on the toughhazel boughs. At last Gwen secured several lengths which satisfiedher, and she returned to her patient. 

"Now, I want all your handkerchiefs to make bandages. Thanks!Charlotte, pull her foot just a trifle more, no--her toes should beup--so! That's better. I'm sorry to hurt you so dreadfully, MissRoberts! I shall very soon have finished. There! I think thosebandages are right. Give her some more water, Louise, quick!"

Poor Miss Roberts had indeed nearly fainted again with pain, but sherecovered herself, and even smiled as she thanked her helpers. 

"I've spoilt the excursion!" she murmured. 

"What's to be done next? Can we carry her?" asked Hilda. 

"Better not try. The quieter that leg is kept the better. She ought tobe lifted on a stretcher. "

"There isn't even a farm near here. "

"I know. I think for the present she's best where she is, while someof you go to the station at Riggness for help. Possibly they may havea railway ambulance, or at any rate they could bring a door. "

"Is there a doctor there?"

"I'm afraid not, it's only a tiny village, but the stationmaster wouldtelegraph to Stedburgh for one. Perhaps he could come by motor, ifthere's no train. "

It was amazing what thoughtfulness and self-reliance had come to Gwenwith the emergency. She made her plans and arrangements as calmly asif she were accustomed to deal every day with accidents. No onequestioned her authority, and all were willing to do what she toldthem. Iris Watson and two others who were judged the quickest walkersvolunteered to go to the station for help, and they listenedattentively while Gwen gave instructions as to what they were to askthe stationmaster to send. 

"It's such a comfort you know!" said Hilda. "I wish I'd learntambulance. "

It seemed an interminable age to poor Miss Roberts and the girlsbefore a railway porter and two labourers who had been working on theline, arrived with a stretcher, which fortunately was kept in theinspector's office at Riggness. It was a tedious slow journey alongthe shore, and up to the station. The patient was nearly worn out bythe time they placed her in the waiting-room, and was thankful to havethe cup of tea which the stationmaster's wife brought her. A doctorarrived from Stedburgh half an hour afterwards, armed with propersplints and bandages, and he carefully examined and reset the brokenlimb. 

"I must thoroughly congratulate the young lady who contributed firstaid, " he said. "She managed most skilfully. This would have been aserious thing but for her prompt measures. If the bone had been joltedabout before it was put in splints, the consequences might have beenpermanent lameness or even loss of life. I wish it were obligatory foreverybody to study ambulance. "

The doctor took Miss Roberts back to her home in Stedburgh in his owncar, and the girls followed by the next train, all equally anxious toget away from Riggness. They were much distressed about their teacher;the excursion had been a fiasco, and the whole party felt limp and outof spirits, like sheep without a shepherd. 

"I'm thankful to get the whole crew packed off safe, " said thestationmaster to his wife. "My word! It was a nasty accident tohappen, down there on the shore. Good thing one of those lassies had ahead on her shoulders!"

"An ordinary enough looking girl, too, " remarked his wife. "I wouldn'thave guessed she'd be the one to come forward. But there, one nevercan tell!"

"There must be more in her than shows on the outside, " agreed thestationmaster. 

CHAPTER XVII

A Pressing Account

When Gwen took her place at her desk on the following Monday morning, she was aware of a subtle difference in the general attitude towardsher. She had earned the respect of the Form, and though nobody gushed, she felt she was no longer regarded as an interloper and upstart. Especially was this noticeable in the case of the nicer girls, severalof whom spoke to her in quite a pleasant manner, and included her in adiscussion about the tennis tournament. To Gwen, who had so long beenleft out in the cold, it was a most welcome change; she had neverexpected popularity, but she had always hoped that in time she mightbe able to conquer the prejudice that existed against her. It was anew thing to be asked to lend her dictionary to Hilda Browne, tocompare chemistry papers with Iris Watson, or to play a game of tenniswith Elspeth Frazer, Edith Arnold, and Charlotte Perry. The ban whichhad hitherto excluded her from the better set in the Form seemed tohave been suddenly removed, the girls were looking at her from a newstandpoint, and were ready to allow that after all she was differentfrom what they had previously supposed. 

Naturally Miss Roberts's accident and consequent absence from herpost made a great upset in the school: classes had to be rearranged, and lessons delegated to other teachers. It was particularly awkward, because the Fifth Form was working for the Senior Oxford, and thoughonly a few girls were actually to take the examination, thepreparation was the same for everybody. 

"I call it too bad, " said Betty Brierley, an acknowledged slacker, "tomake the whole Form grind--grind--grind--like this, all on behalf ofabout four candidates. They ought to have a special class tothemselves. "

"There's method in the madness, though, " said Joan Masters. "MissRoscoe isn't going to tell till the very last who's to go in for it, so nobody knows if she mayn't be destined as a victim for thesacrifice, and her name already entered. "

"Oh! Not me!"

"Don't alarm yourself. But there are one or two others who, I expect, are on the secret list. It depends entirely on our weekly reports. "

"Then I'm safe, for mine are always bad. I wouldn't go in for a publicexam, for the whole world, the school ones are quite enough for me, and too much, as a rule. Who's likely, do you think?"

"I'm not quite sure. Elspeth Frazer, for one, and--yes, I shouldn't beso very much astonished if Miss Roscoe's chosen Gwen Gascoyne. "

"Gwen--yes. She's been bucking up no end lately in maths. "

"And in Latin too. However, it's not our business. But I thinkthere'll be some surprises. "

Gwen, whether or not with the idea of the Senior Oxford in her head, had certainly been working hard. She had not only caught up, but evenoverstepped most of the Form, and her reports kept a steady average ofimprovement. Miss Roscoe, who was generally scanty in the matter ofpraise, said little, but there was an air of encouragement about herwhich urged Gwen to her best efforts. 

"I made up my mind I'd let them all see I could do the work as well asanybody, though I am the youngest, " she said to herself. "They don'tsneer at me now. "

Her translation from the Lower School was beginning to feel quite anold remembrance. Her thoughts went back sometimes to that first day inthe Fifth, the day when Netta had taken her into Miss Roscoe's privatesitting-room, and she had broken the box of china. That was arecollection which always stung, and which she would thrust awayuneasily into the lumber-room of her mind. So far she had heardnothing more from Parker's, but the consciousness of the debt wasthere, and she knew that sooner or later she would be called upon toface the difficulty. 

Nor was she mistaken. One Saturday morning, when she was taking alittle vigorous exercise with the lawn mower before breakfast, she sawthe postman coming in at the gate, and obeying a sudden impulse, ranto receive the letters, instead of allowing him to deliver them asusual at the door. There were four circulars for Father, a postcardfor Beatrice, and one thin business envelope addressed to "Miss GwenGascoyne, c/o Miss Goodwin, The Thorns, Manor Road, Stedburgh, " andre-directed in Netta's handwriting to "Skelwick Parsonage, NorthDitton". Full of apprehension Gwen turned it over, and saw the name"J. Parker & Sons" printed on the flap. So it had come at last!Without even opening it she knew perfectly well what must be inside. She wondered they had waited so long before sending in the accountagain. What a mercy she had intercepted the postman that morning andtaken the letters herself! If Beatrice had got hold of this it wouldhave been impossible to conceal the matter any longer. Why had Nettasent the letter on by post instead of giving it to her at school?Surely it was a piece of spite on her part. Gwen turned quite hot asshe thought of what Beatrice would have said. She hastily put thepostcard and circulars on the breakfast-table, and ran down the gardento a retired place in the orchard, where she could open her ill-fatedenvelope in privacy. 

Yes, it was just what she anticipated--a bill for ten shillings, and apolite but urgent request that the amount should be paid withoutfurther delay. She crushed it angrily in her hand, then stuffed itinto her pocket and stood thinking. What was she to do? What could shedo? All sorts of desperate schemes came running through her mind, andshe gave each its due consideration. 

"If I were a girl in a magazine story, " she thought, "I suppose I'ddisguise myself as a pierrette and go and sing on the promenade atStedburgh. I dare say I'd get heaps of pennies. But--oh! I wonder ifgirls ever really do such things out of books? Father'd rather I owedpounds than went singing for pennies. He stopped the Sunday Schoolchildren going round on Christmas Eve, but then they went into thepublic-houses, and of course I shouldn't. No, I couldn't risk it, andbesides, I'd be too shy to sing, and somebody would be sure to findout. Shall I ask Dick to lend me half a sovereign? He would in aminute. No! I've not sunk to sponging on my boy friends, at any rate. I'd rather do a day's charing than that. A good idea! Why shouldn't Iturn charwoman? If Beatrice would let me clean out the schools everySaturday, instead of Mrs. Cass, and pay me the money, I'd work off thebill in time. I wonder if I dare suggest it?"

The breakfast bell ringing loudly and clamorously at that moment putan end to Gwen's meditations, and she went indoors, but she was muchpreoccupied during the meal, so that she never noticed how Giles waspeppering her piece of bread and butter till she incautiously took abite and choked. 

"You hateful boy! You're always up to some monkey tricks!" sheexclaimed indignantly. 

 "'For she can thoroughly enjoy The pepper when she pleases!'"

jeered Giles, adroitly dodging the smack she designed for him. 

And the rest of the family laughed--yes, laughed, in a most heartlessand inconsiderate manner. 

"Your wits were wool-gathering, Gwen!" said Winnie, quoting a localproverb. "Stumps did it so deliberately and openly that anybody couldhave caught him who wasn't absolutely dreaming. We were all watchingto see if you'd notice. "

"The absent-minded beggar!" piped Basil. 

"I think you're all very horrid and unkind!" complained the victim, still sneezing. 

"Don't be grumpy, Gwen!"

"You must learn to take a joke, childie!" said Father, pushing backhis chair and going away to his study. 

Father so generally stood up for her that Gwen felt aggrieved. She hadalways flattered herself upon her capacity for accepting "ragging"with equanimity, but this, she considered, was beyond a joke. 

"It might have got into my eyes and blinded me, " she declared withplaintive dignity, and leaving the peppery remains on her plate, stalked off to the garden. She had certainly been too busy thinkingduring breakfast to notice her plate. It had struck her that if shereally wished Beatrice to allow her to do charwoman's work at theschool, she must give some proof of her capacity in that direction. 

"Mrs. Cass never begins till one o'clock, " she thought. "I'll go downthis morning and get it all done before she comes, and then I can showBeatrice. "

It seemed the only possible way of earning money open to her, sostealing one of Nellie's coarse aprons and a tin of soft soap from thekitchen, she hurried off to the school. She knew where Mrs. Cass keptthe bucket and scrubbing-brush which she used for her cleaningoperations; they were in a cupboard at the end of the passage. BeingSaturday, the place was, of course, empty, and no one would disturbher. She had brought the Parsonage key to unlock the door, and afterfilling her bucket at the pump in the yard, she put on the apron, tucked up her sleeves, and set to work. And it was work! Gwen hadnever in her life before tried to scrub a floor, and though her armswere sturdy and strong at wielding a tennis-racket or the lawn mower, they soon began to ache at the unwonted exercise which she had setherself. The room seemed most enormously large, and she was sure itwas abnormally dirty. The school children's boots must have been cakedwith mud. She began to have a wholesome respect for Mrs. Cass. Shegrew stiff and cramped with kneeling, and was obliged to stand upoccasionally and take a rest. 

"There are the two classrooms to do yet, " she thought ruefully, "tosay nothing of the passage. I'm getting rather fed up with scrubbing. "

But she was only half through, so she set grimly to her self-imposedtask again. She had very nearly finished the big room when the doorsoftly opened, and who should appear but Beatrice! At the sight ofGwen and her occupation she nearly dropped the books she was carrying. 

"Gwen! what's the meaning of this? You do look an object!" sheexclaimed. 

Gwen jumped up hastily, well aware that she thoroughly merited anyaspersions on her appearance. Both her dress and the apron were soakedwith water, her face had accumulated some of the dirt, her hair ribbonhad fallen off, and her hair was dangling in her eyes. A more untidyyoung person could not have been found in the whole village. Sheflung back her hair with a wet, grimy hand, and finding her pockethandkerchief, tried to wipe her face. 

"What freak is this, Gwen? Whatever will you do next?" continuedBeatrice. 

"I didn't expect you here till I'd finished, " answered Gwen, sittingdown exhaustedly on a form. 

"You know I often come to practise the hymns, now Winnie takes themission-room at Basingwold. That doesn't explain why you're washingthe floor. "

"I wanted you to see that I could do it. I thought perhaps you'd letme scrub every week, and pay me instead of Mrs. Cass, " said Gwen, blurting out her scheme in the baldest outline. 

Beatrice took another comprehensive glance at her sister'sdisreputable figure, then sat down hilariously. 

"You needn't laugh so--I mean it seriously, " protested Gwen. "I wantthe money. "

"Oh! oh! You look so funny!" screamed Beatrice; then, suddenlysobering down, she changed her tone. "I couldn't help laughing, " shecontinued, "but it was a good thing it was only I who came in andcaught you in this dirty mess. What prompted you to be so silly?"

"I've told you already. "

"Gwen, don't be idiotic! How could you scrub the school every week. Besides, we couldn't take the work away from Mrs. Cass. She'd be mostindignant She needs the money badly, poor body, with that large familyto keep. "

This was an utterly new aspect of the case that had not beforeoccurred to Gwen. 

"I want money too, " she groaned. 

"So do I, and so does Dad, and so do we all, but we can't get it, "replied Beatrice rather tartly. "We have to make up our minds to gowithout. You're no worse off than the rest of us. "

Gwen paused. A half impulse was stirring within her to tell her sisterher difficulties. If only Beatrice looked a little more sympathetic!

"How do you know I'm no worse off?" she began. 

"I've no patience with you, Gwen! You're always thinking aboutyourself! You've done a silly, mad prank to-day, and I don't know whatMrs. Cass will say when she arrives. Really, at your age you ought toknow better and remember your dignity. You're not a child now, thoughI'm sure you behave like one. Go and put that bucket andscrubbing-brush away, and wash your face before you walk home. I shallhave to explain to Mrs. Cass, or she'll think I've been giving herwork to another charwoman. It would be enough to make her leave thechurch! She's fearfully touchy. I wonder when you'll learn sense. "

Very crestfallen, Gwen turned away. No, it was quite impossible toconfide in Beatrice. Beatrice never understood, never even seemed towant to understand. In her superior, elder-sisterly position shesimply condemned everything without hesitation. 

"I wonder if she used to do silly things herself?" thought Gwen. "She's always been six years older, and preached to me since I canfirst remember. Shall I ever catch her up, or will she seem those sixyears ahead to the end of the chapter?"

And having performed some very necessary ablutions, she walked home, looking tired and woebegone. 

Beatrice, with a sigh, opened the harmonium and chose her hymns forto-morrow's Sunday School, wondering on her part why this particularsister was so difficult to manage, and so utterly different indisposition from the rest of the family. 

"I'm sure I do my best, " she thought, "but Gwen has always been atrial. I can't imagine whom she takes after. If the ugly duckling'sever going to turn into a swan, it's time she began!"

All Sunday Gwen was haunted by a horrible black shadow. She keptParker's letter in her pocket, and the remembrance of it never lefther. Gwen generally enjoyed Sundays, but this particular day was likea nightmare. How to get out of her scrape she could not imagine. Thedebt felt like a heavy millstone tied round her neck. In theafternoon, when the others sat reading and chatting under the trees inthe garden, she mooned about the orchard by herself, too miserableeven to be interested in a book. How was the affair to end? She didnot dare to go to Parker's and explain that at present it wasimpossible to pay the bill. She supposed she would simply have to letthings drift and await further developments. What steps Parker's wouldtake next, she could not foresee. They would probably wait a week oreven more before further pressing the account, and any respite waswelcome. Trouble was ahead, doubtless, but it was better ten days offthan to-morrow, because there was always the faint hope that somecircumstance might arise at the eleventh hour to smooth over thedifficulty. On Monday morning Gwen seized an opportunity to catchNetta alone. 

"I say, " she began, "it was awfully mean of you to send that letter ofParker's on to me by post. Why couldn't you have brought it to schoolinstead?"

"Why should I?" retorted Netta. "I'm not going to act postman for you, I can assure you! And look here, Gwen Gascoyne, you'll please not haveany more letters directed to you at our house! We don't want toreceive your bills, thank you! You must give your own address to theshops. Haven't you settled that affair with Parker's yet?"

"No, and I don't want it to be found out at home. Beatrice alwaystakes in the letters and deals them round. It was by the merest goodluck she didn't get hold of mine on Saturday. Netta, do let me useyour address! You might do that much for me!"

"Why should I? I've done quite enough for you, and too much already. I'm tired of the whole business. I was silly to be mixed up with it inthe beginning. "

"But you started it! You took me into Miss Roscoe's room, and then yousuggested going to Parker's and replacing the china. "

"Are you trying to throw the blame on me?" flared Netta. 

"Not altogether; but I think you were partly responsible, and that yougot off cheaply. "

"That's uncommonly fine, " sneered Netta. "No, no, my good Gwen, thatlittle dodge won't work. This child isn't going to be burden-bearerfor your sins. If you get into scrapes you must get out of themyourself. I've lost a sovereign over you already. "

"And for what?" exploded Gwen angrily. "What about my beautiful essay, that you took and used as your own?"

"Wasn't worth it! It was a freak of mine just then to win that prize, but I've never looked at the book since. I'm sorry I troubled aboutit. I'd rather have the sov. Now. "

"And I'm sorry too, because it wasn't fair and square, and I've feltvile about it ever since. I hate all these underhand things. "

Netta smiled sarcastically. 

"Of course you hate them when they don't turn out to your advantage. Pity you didn't pursue your course of virtue a little earlier! Youwere ready enough to trade the essay for the sov. At the time, so whatare you grumbling about now?"

"Your meanness. "

"Look here, Gwen Gascoyne, I've had enough of this! I won't hearanother word about your wretched affair. As I told you before, youmust get out of your own scrapes, and not expect other people to actProvidence for you. If you mention the subject again, I simply shan'tlisten. "

Gwen had scarcely expected either help or consolation from Netta, though she felt indignant that her old chum should show her so littlesympathy in the matter. After all, it was only in accordance withNetta's character. Grapes do not grow on thistles; and a girl sodestitute of all sense of conscience was not likely to prove a stanchand faithful friend. Gwen was learning by slow and painful experiencethat bright amusing manners may be worthless unless allied to moresterling qualities. She had been wont to admire Netta's easy style, and even to try to copy it; now it struck her as hollow and vapid. Ifonly she could have started quite afresh, with no guilty memories todisturb her, she felt she had the chance of getting into a better setin her Form. But what would Elspeth Frazer, Hilda Browne, Iris Watson, or any of the nicer girls think of her conduct, both in regard to thebroken-china episode or the transferred essay? She knew it would notaccord with their code of honour. 

"I wish I had the courage to tell Miss Roscoe everything, " groanedGwen. "It would have been the straightest course if I'd gone andconfessed at once when I smashed the china. It would have saved agreat many complications. Dare I possibly tell now?"

She walked along the passage to the study. The door was open, so shepeeped cautiously in. Miss Roscoe sat correcting papers, and nobodyelse was in the room. If she wished to make her confession, here wascertainly her opportunity. Her heart beat and thumped, and the wordsseemed to freeze upon her lips. Miss Roscoe looked so stern as she satat her desk making pencil notes on the margins of the exercises; therewas a hard, uncompromising expression on her face which Gwen knew onlytoo well, and which did not tend in the direction of tendernesstowards wrongdoers. Gwen was still smarting from the scolding she hadreceived for her conversation with Dick out of the window. If MissRoscoe viewed that peccadillo so seriously, what would she say to thetale which her pupil had to unfold?

"I daren't! I daren't!" thought Gwen. "No, I really can't screw up thecourage. I loathe myself for a deceitful wretch, and yet--oh, dear!--there's nothing in this world I dread so much as being foundout!"

She ran down the passage again with a sense of relief. One voice inher heart assured her that she had escaped a danger, though anotherupbraided her for her cowardice. 

"If Miss Roscoe hadn't looked quite so severe I might have ventured, "she sighed in response to the latter. "I don't believe I'll get evenso far as the study door again. "

So a golden opportunity was lost, and Gwen, who might even thus latehave chosen the straighter, harder path, shirked the disagreeableexperience, and was left perforce to reap the harvest of her ownsowing. 

CHAPTER XVIII

Gwen's Bright Idea

As Gwen went down the corridor she noticed a small crowd collectedround the notice board, and, edging her way in among the crush, readan announcement which Bessie Manners, the head girl, had just pinnedup. 

"There will be a General Meeting of the Seniors at 2 p. M. In the SixthForm room. Business--to consider what steps can be taken for anadequate celebration of the school anniversary. All are urged toattend. "

"Hello! Whence this thusness?" exclaimed Gwen. "What have we got to dowith the school anniversary? I thought Miss Roscoe engineered thewhole of it!"

"So she does, ordinarily, " answered Moira Thompson, one of theprefects. "But we want this to be a very special festivity; not justthe usual picnic or garden party. "

"But why?"

"Haven't time to explain now. Come to the meeting and we'll expoundour views. I think it's a ripping notion of Bessie's myself. "

"Do give me a hint!"

But Moira shook her head and passed on, leaving Gwen to curb hercuriosity until two o'clock, for the prefects had not imparted theirplans to anybody as yet, and none of her own Form could enlighten her. 

At the hour stated nearly all the Seniors presented themselves in theSixth Form room. Bessie Manners was voted to the chair, and at oncebegan an explanation of why she had called the meeting. 

"Girls, " she said, "you all know that we're accustomed to have somekind of festivity on 1st June, the day of our school anniversary. Nowit happens that this particular occasion is one of more than usualinterest. Miss Roscoe has been Principal of Rodenhurst for exactly tenyears, and it seems only fitting that due recognition should be madeof the circumstance. The question that we have met to discuss is theshape and form in which we can adequately celebrate this event. Wefeel that the suggestion ought to come from the girls themselves, though we may need aid from the mistresses in carrying it out. I shallbe glad if anyone who has a plan to lay before the meeting willpropose it. "

"I am sure, " began Moira Thompson, rising in response to Bessie's nod, "that everybody would like to show Miss Roscoe how we value her as aheadmistress. For my part I think there should be a testimonial, subscribed for in the school, and that we might have a publicpresentation of it. "

"Hear! Hear!"

"What kind of a testimonial?" asked one of the girls. 

"That remains to be discussed, and would, of course, depend upon howmuch was collected. "

"A silver tea service, or something of that kind?" enquired NataliePreston, one of the prefects. 

"Probably: we shall have to find out what Miss Roscoe would likebest. "

"And where would the celebrations come in?" asked Iris Watson. 

"That also must be talked over. So far, Miss Roscoe has alwaysarranged a treat for the school on anniversary day, but we think thisyear it ought to be the other way, and the girls arrange a treat forMiss Roscoe and the mistresses. I'm sure they'd appreciate it. "

"Each Form might have a collecting book. We ought to raise quite ahandsome sum, " said Bessie Manners. "Then there could be a garden fêtefor the presentation. "

"Only for the school? Or would parents and friends be allowed tocome?" asked one of the Sixth. 

"I don't see why they shouldn't. It would make the affair seem of moreimportance. We could get up an extra fund to provide afternoon tea. "

"Or get it catered for, and let people pay for their own. "

"Like one does at a bazaar?"

"Exactly. "

"The idea is feasible. Anybody any amendments to offer?" said Bessie. 

Then a sudden and brilliant suggestion came to Gwen--one of thoselucky flashes of inspiration that occasionally, in our happiermoments, strike us. 

"May I speak?" she cried impulsively, starting up. 

"By all means, " nodded Chairman Bessie. 

"It seems to me, " said Gwen, "that if we're going to do this thing atall, it might just as easily be on a large scale as a small one. MissRoscoe, no doubt, would be very pleased with a silver tea service, butI know something I believe she'd like far better. Don't you rememberhow frightfully interested she is in the new Convalescent Home? Sheurged us all to help it if we could. Suppose we could raise enoughmoney to found a cot, and call it the Rodenhurst Cot, wouldn't that bea nice memorial?"

"After Miss Roscoe's own heart!" gasped Bessie. 

"Ripping!" agreed most of the girls. 

"But what would it cost? Is it possible?" enquired Olga Hunter. 

"I believe it is. We have some papers at the Parsonage about theConvalescent Home. I was looking at them only yesterday. Any donor of£100 is to be allowed to name a cot, and nominate the special childrenwho occupy it. Now in this big school we ought to be able to raise£100. "

"A large order, " said Natalie Preston. 

"Not if it's undertaken systematically. As it's for a charitableobject we can ask subscriptions from outsiders. "

"I see your point, " said Bessie. "Yes, we could beg for theConvalescent Home when we couldn't ask for contributions for apersonal testimonial to Miss Roscoe. But this would please her farmore. A Rodenhurst Cot! She'd love it!"

"If each girl in the school could collect five shillings, " continuedGwen, "that would be over seventy-five pounds. Then suppose onanniversary day we had a grand gymkhana, and charged a shillingadmission. Surely every girl could persuade two people to come, whichwould make at least six hundred guests. Six hundred shillings meanthirty pounds, so there you are!"

"We could have tea extra and perhaps sell flowers, " added Olga Hunter, as an amendment "I'm willing to second the proposal. "

"It certainly sounds feasible on these lines. We might even raise morethan the hundred pounds, " said Bessie. 

"In that case we could add a personal testimonial to Miss Roscoe. "

"Hear! Hear!" shouted several. 

"Put the motion in due form, Gwen. "

"I beg to propose that in order to celebrate the tenth year of MissRoscoe's headmistress-ship, and the seventeenth anniversary of theschool, we should endeavour to collect £100 to found a Rodenhurst cotin the Convalescent Home, " proclaimed Gwen. 

"And I beg to second that proposal, " said Olga Hunterenthusiastically. 

"All in favour please signify!" murmured Chairman Bessie. 

Such a chorus of "Aye!" came in response that the motion was carriedunanimously, and nothing remained but to discuss details. 

"We shall have to let the Juniors know about it, and start themcollecting, " said Natalie Preston. 

"We'd better each collect as much as possible in our own district orparish, " suggested Gwen. "Lesbia and I, for instance, can undertakeSkelwick. I'm sure some of the people there would give towards a cot. "

"Then we'll have cards or books to enter the amounts?"

"Of course. "

"What about the gymkhana?"

"We must appoint a special committee to arrange a programme andcompetitions, and ask people if they'll offer prizes. "

"I vote we appoint the prefects, then, as a committee. "

"Right-o!"

Gwen came away from the meeting with flying colours. She had certainlymade a proposition which nobody else had thought of, but which allacknowledged was exactly the most fitting to meet the circumstances. For the first time in her experience she found her remarks receivingthe attention not only of her own Form, but even of the Sixth. Theprefects, mindful of their dignity, generally held themselves aloof, so it was indeed a triumph for Gwen to be seized upon, after themeeting was over, by Bessie Manners, and consulted upon the generalworking of the scheme. To walk down the corridor linked arm in armwith the head girl was a distinction that fell to few, and Gwen, though she accepted the honour with apparent unconsciousness, knewperfectly well that it would make an enormous difference to herposition in the school. For the moment she was talked about. Her planfor the cot was called "Gwen Gascoyne's scheme", and to her was giventhe entire credit for originating it. The more the idea was discussed, the more everybody liked it. The mistresses sympathized heartily, andthe Juniors promised earnest co-operation. Gwen, for once, wasappreciated to her heart's content. It was wonderful how gracious theprefects were towards her, and how the members of her own Formsuddenly treated her with respect. After so long a period ofunpopularity it was very sweet to find general opinion had thus veeredround, and Gwen enjoyed her new character of organizer to the full. She threw herself heart and soul into the working of her scheme, andthanks partly to her parish experience at Skelwick, and partly to apractical element in her composition, she was able to give really goodand helpful advice, both as to the collecting of the fund, and thearranging of the gymkhana. There was very little time before the dayof the anniversary, so those in authority were obliged to push mattersas fast as they could. Each girl in the school begged in her owncircle most assiduously, and from the reports that began to becirculated the result seemed most encouraging. 

"I believe we're going to get the £100 just by collecting, and thatthe gymkhana will be extra, " said Bessie Manners exultingly. "By theby, Miss Roscoe wishes it to be known that she would much prefer notto be offered a private testimonial, but that everything should gotowards the cot. "

"Oh, we wanted to give her some remembrance, though, " cried several ofthe girls, rather disappointed. 

"I'd set my heart on her having a silver teapot at least, " said IrisWatson. 

"It's just like Miss Roscoe not to want anything personal, " saidGwen. "I must say I admire her for it. She always reminds me of anancient Roman--the State first and foremost in her estimation, andherself nowhere. "

"Yes, she'd sacrifice a good deal for the sake of the school, " agreedBessie Manners. 

It was decided to turn the anniversary into a kind of floral fête, tobe held in the large cricket field. There were to be morris dances, amaypole dance, a procession of decorated bicycles, and numerousathletic competitions. Tea, coffee, and lemonade would be served attables on the ground, and flowers and sweets could be carried round inbaskets and sold during the afternoon. It was wonderful when once theball had been set rolling how quickly offers of help flowed in. Thegirls' parents and friends approved of the idea of a "Rodenhurst" cotfor the Convalescent Home, and were most kind in their contributions. Enough cakes were promised to provide amply for afternoon tea. BessieManners's mother undertook to send a supply of ices, and a generousstore of sweets and flowers seemed forthcoming. To have such anexcellent mutual object to work for seemed to unite all the members ofthe school, and especially to break down the barrier between Seniorsand Juniors which had hitherto existed. While before it had hardlybeen considered etiquette for the Sixth and Fifth to talk to those inthe Lower Forms, they might now be seen conferring on quite pleasantterms about the gymkhana, comparing notes on subscriptions, and makingarrangements for flower selling and sweet vending. 

Considering the large amount of home preparation that was expectedfrom her in view of the forthcoming examinations, Gwen found she hadset herself a task in undertaking any more work, but by arranging hertime very carefully, she managed to perform one set of duties withoutneglecting another. She and Lesbia collected fifteen and ninepence forthe cot among their friends in Skelwick, and wrote down the variousitems with much satisfaction in a notebook supplied for the purpose. The Gascoynes did not possess bicycles, so could not join the cycleparade, but Lesbia was to sing in one of the glees, and Gwen meant toenter for certain of the athletic sports. Her long arms and legswould, she hoped, stand her in good stead in a contest of running orjumping, and even if she did not win a prize, it was worth competingfor the mere fun of the thing. Giles and Basil were scarcely lessexcited, for the Boys' Preparatory Department was to have its share inthe celebrations, and they looked forward to showing their prowess inpublic. They spent much of their spare time in training for variousOlympic games, an occupation of which Beatrice heartily approved. 

"It keeps them out of mischief for the whole evening, " she declared. "I bless the gymkhana. "

"It's wonderful how it's drawn everyone together at school, " observedGwen. "Even Miss Roscoe isn't nearly as starchy as usual, and MissTrent was quite jolly when we were talking over the programme. As forUpper and Lower School, we just ignore any distinction between the twowhen it's a question of the fête. "

"I'm glad to hear it, " said Beatrice, "I always thought the Seniors atRodenhurst were much too stand-off. It will do them a world of good toforget their dignity for once, and mix freely with the rest of theschool. "

"Yes, it's quite a comfort to be able to talk to Lesbia in the gym. Now, " agreed Gwen. 

"Do you mean to say you couldn't before?" exclaimed Beatrice. "Thingsweren't so bad as that when I was there. "

"Etiquette's been getting stricter and stricter since you left. Theprefects of about two years ago started the notion that Seniors mustkeep to themselves, and not have anything to do with Juniors, and youknow when an idea like that gets broached how everybody takes it upand sticks to it. It's impossible to defy a rule of that kind just 'onone's own'. "

"I know; rules the girls make for themselves are generally better keptthan those made at headquarters. I agree that you couldn't breakthrough the etiquette of your Form. Still, I'm glad the barrier isdown at last, and hope it will never be raised again. "

"I shan't be the one to plant a stake in the fence of division!"laughed Gwen. 

Practising for the various items of the fête proceeded briskly atRodenhurst. The younger girls, during the winter course of dancinglessons, had learned to plait the maypole, and to execute some livelymorris dances. Though Miss Robins, their teacher, was not in Stedburghduring the summer, they remembered their steps quite well enough toenable them to give a performance, with the aid of a littlesupervision from some of their elders. Various members of theSeniors, who understood morris dancing, undertook to superintendrehearsals, and drill the small girls in any details they hadforgotten. It was thought that this portion of the entertainment wouldform a great attraction of the fête, and give it somewhat thecharacter of a May Day celebration. The Juniors who were fortunateenough to be taking part were immensely important, and keenly anxiousto make their contribution to the programme a complete success. Theyturned up loyally for rehearsals, and were unwearied in practising anydifficult bits where there was a likelihood of a hitch occurring. 

One afternoon, about two o'clock, Gwen, with her Virgil in her hand, sauntered down the Rodenhurst garden into the playing field which layat the back of the school. She was anxious to seize the half-hour forpreparation, as she knew she would have scant time in the evening forall she was obliged to finish, and she hoped to find a quiet corner inthe open air, where she might study in peace. As she walked along, seeking a shady spot, she was attracted by the sound of angry voices, and peeping over the hedge that divided the small playing field fromthe larger hockey and cricket field, she saw a selection of SecondForm girls collected for a rehearsal. Netta Goodwin was the Senior incommand, and with Netta these Juniors were evidently having an excitedaltercation. 

"But Moira Thompson didn't do that!" shrieked an indignant voice. 

"Do as I tell you!" ordered Netta tartly. "You lot go over there, andbegin your dance, and Ida Bridge and Peggie Weston stop here and holdthis rope. "

"But I'm the leader!" wailed Ida. "They can't get on without me!"

"They'll have to, for once. "

"But it's not fair! You've come to help us to practise--not for us tohelp you!"

"That's as I like to arrange it!"

"Oh, you are a beast!"

"Apologize for that word, or I'll spiflicate you! Where are yourmanners?"

"If you're not fair, we shan't mind manners, so there!"

"Ida Bridge, do you intend to hold this rope?"

"Shan't! I'd rather tell Miss Trent first. "

"You miserable little sneak!"

"I'm not a sneak! It's your fault! Why can't you take our rehearsalproperly, like the others did? We're wasting time. "

"So we are! Get to business, you kids over there. Why don't you beginyour precious dance?"

"We can't without Ida and Peggie--specially Ida!" fumed theperformers. 

"Well, I've told you I want them myself, and you'll just have tomanage as best you can. Now then, off you go--one--two--three! Botherthe lot of you! What are you waiting for?"

"For Ida Bridge. "

"You won't get her!"

"Then the rehearsal's off!"

"No, it's not off, you lazy little wretches! You can manage all rightif you like; I know perfectly well you can! It's just a piece ofobstinacy. Pig policy doesn't pay with me, I assure you! I've been putin authority for this afternoon, and I mean to have my own way, so Igive you warning. Start that dance instantly, and Ida and Peggie holdthis rope. "

Instead of obeying, the Juniors crowded round Netta uttering protestsand reproaches in a perfect chorus of mutiny. Gwen, who could notquite grasp the cause of the quarrel, made her way through a gap inthe hedge and entered the large field. 

"What's all the shindy about?" she enquired. "You're like a set ofwild Irishmen at a fair. I thought you were supposed to berehearsing?"

"How can we rehearse by ourselves?"

"And without our leader?"

"Netta won't conduct!"

"She told us to go and dance by ourselves, while she practised her ownjumping. "

"And she wanted to make Ida and Peggie hold the rope for her. "

"How can we do our morris dance without Ida and Peggie? It spoils thefigures. "

"Netta!" gasped Gwen. "Did you actually mean to practise jumpinginstead of taking this rehearsal?"

Netta shrugged her shoulders easily. 

"The kids know their steps so well, they can do the thing perfectly, "she replied. "What was the good of wasting my time drilling them? Ithought I'd make them of some use, and let them hold a rope for me. They're an ungrateful little set of sneaks--won't do a thing for theirseniors!"

"Why, I should think not, in this case, when you'd been speciallytold off by the Committee to superintend their dance. I sympathizewith the kids. They've right on their side. It's you who are thesneak. "

"Oh! Am I indeed, Miss Gwen Gascoyne? Thank you for nothing. It's apretty name to have called me, and I shan't forget it. "

"But it's true!" returned Gwen with warmth. "It's simply abominablebehaviour to pretend to act dancing mistress and use the time for yourown purposes. Why should these kids hold a rope for you?"

"And why should you take me to task, I'd like to know? You're not aprefect. "

"I only wish I were. "

"No doubt you do!" sneered Netta. "You've been so stuck up since yourCot scheme was adopted, that you seem to imagine yourself as good asthe head of the school. "

"Gwen, you take our rehearsal instead--we've wasted ten minutes ormore over wrangling!" pleaded one of the Juniors. 

"I will, if Netta will let me. "

"Oh, I yield my place with pleasure to the all-important, all-necessary Gwen Gascoyne!" retorted Netta. "We humbler members ofthe Fifth don't get a look-in nowadays. But just let me give you oneword of good advice, my lofty Pharaoh--pride occasionally comes beforea fall!"

CHAPTER XIX

A School Gymkhana

Thanks to the vigorous efforts of the Committee and of the variousorganizers of the entertainment programme, everything was in goodtraining by the first of June, and anniversary day seemed likely toprove a huge success. It was decided that the gymkhana should begin atthree o'clock, and be held in the large cricket field, admission beingeither by ticket or gate money. There was a little discussion aboutthe arrangements in that respect, some members considering theprinting of the tickets an unnecessary expense, and others their salebeforehand an essential feature. 

"It's far better to sell them in advance, " urged Bessie Manners, "because people will often buy them, even if they're not certain ofgoing. If it were a showery afternoon many might stay away--then ifthey hadn't taken tickets it would be so much loss to the funds. "

"We'll accept money at the gate, though?" queried Olga Hunter. 

"Yes, we must have a gatekeeper, and provide her with shilling andsixpenny checks. I think children ought to be half-price. So many ofus have little brothers and sisters who would like to come, and ashilling seems too much to pay for a child. "

"Right you are! Who'll be gatekeeper?"

"Oh, some sturdy Fifth Form girl. I propose Gwen Gascoyne. "

"Yes, Gwen would do splendidly. She deserves some post of honour forevolving the scheme. Besides, she's got a head on her shoulders. She'dkeep the gate like Horatio kept the bridge. "

"One could trust Gwen, I know. Now Rachel Hunter or Edith Arnold wouldmake mistakes in the change, and lose their presence of mind, andperhaps let half a dozen people push in free while they were reckoningup the sixpences. "

"Gwen it shall be, then. I'll ask her to-day if she'll undertake it. "

Gwen was only too proud to be invited to assume such a responsibleposition. She felt much flattered that it should have been offered toher instead of to Elspeth Frazer, Hilda Browne, Iris Watson, or otherof the older members of the Form. 

"I'm the youngest of all, and yet I'm to be trusted the most!" shesaid to herself with a sigh of gratification. "Gwen Gascoyne, Icongratulate you! You're coming on!"

There was great excitement at Skelwick Parsonage on the day of thefête. Beatrice had made several boxes of sweets to be sold on theground, and Winnie picked the very choicest flowers in the garden forthe same object. Mr. Gascoyne, Beatrice, and Martin were to come tothe gymkhana, and had promised to clap their loudest at Giles' andBasil's performances in the sports. Those two heroes kept examiningthe muscular development of their young arms like a pair of practisedRoman gladiators, and ate quite a double allowance of breakfast on thestrength of the trials that were in store for them. They were so eagerto start for school, that for once Beatrice had no need to urge themto hurry, and they departed in excellent spirits, vaulting, forpractice, over the orchard hurdles instead of going out through thefront gate. 

Morning school was held as usual at Rodenhurst, but ceased at twelve, so as to give time for preliminary arrangements to be completed. Theclassrooms were to be used as dressing-rooms for some of theperformers, and the gymnasium was turned into a repository for theparcels of sweets, cakes, and flowers which kept arriving from thegenerous friends who had promised such gifts. To unpack these andapportion them to different tea tables or vendors' baskets was a taskwhich needed all the energies of the members of the Committee, whowere kept so busy at the work that they had scarcely more than tenminutes to spare for dinner. As a rule, unpunctuality at this meal wasvisited with direst penalties, but to-day Miss Roscoe only smiled asthe prefects rushed in very late, hastily bolted their meat course, and fled minus the pudding. Their zeal and virtuous example had thedesired effect. Everybody upon whom any responsibility devolved madean extra effort, so that by half-past two everything was in perfectorder and readiness. 

"Thank our lucky, lucky stars it's a decent day!" said Gwen, gazing upat a sky which, if not blue all over, held only clouds of anapparently harmless character. "I don't believe it intends to rain atall, and I expect everybody will come, and the audience be 'large andappreciative', as the newspapers say. If I don't clear a good sum ofgate money, I shall be amazed. "

"Are you ready, Gwen, to act Horatio?" said Bessie Manners, bustlingup in a hurry. "You understand the business, don't you? Those withtickets you of course let in free. Everybody else must pay a shilling, or children under ten sixpence. Here are two rolls of checks, sixpennyand shilling ones. You must hand checks to all comers for the amountthey have paid you, and they will present the checks at the entranceto the big field. You will stand at the gate that leads from thegarden to the smaller field. "

"I understand all right!" laughed Gwen. "I've brought a satchel tohold the money, and I'll undertake not a soul gets in without paying. It will have to be 'over my body' if they do!"

"Moira will be at the second gate, and she won't allow anyone throughwithout handing her a ticket or a check, so I think we shan't loseanything there, " replied Bessie, turning away satisfied. 

Gwen took up her station at once, for visitors were already beginningto arrive at the school, and she was soon fully occupied in receivingcoins and tearing off checks. She rather enjoyed being at the receiptof custom, and was particularly gratified at the amount that went intoher satchel. The fine afternoon had tempted people to come to thegymkhana, old Rodenhurst girls and their friends had turned up, aswell as parents and relations of present pupils, so the gathering wasquite considerable. The many pretty summer dresses and bright parasolsgave a most festive appearance to the ground, even before theperformers arrived on the scenes. Various girls, furnished withtasteful baskets, had been chosen to sell sweets and floralbuttonholes, and soon began to find customers for their wares, whilethe lemonade and ice-cream stalls were already doing a roaring trade. 

Lesbia had been selected as a flower vendor, and looked absolutelycharming in a white China-silk dress and Tuscan hat trimmed withdaisies, which, by her usual good luck, she had received from AuntViolet only the week before. Pretty Lesbia, with her pink cheeks andher lovely flaxen hair, really made quite a picture as she carriedround her basket, and many people bought flowers from her, justbecause they could not resist the entreaty in her blue eyes, and thesoft little voice that pleaded the cause of the Rodenhurst Cot. 

"She's just twice as good at selling as I should have been, " thoughtGwen, watching her sister rather wistfully. "There's a fascinationabout Lesbia which I don't possess in the very least. She must bemaking a little fortune with those posies. Well, never mind. I'mkeeping the gate. That's more important still. To business. Here'ssomeone else coming. Hello! Why, Dick! This is awfully good of you!"

It was Dick Chambers who presented himself and paid his shilling. "Ihardly knew whether I dared come, " he grinned, "after the row I gotyou into that afternoon when you fished out of the window for sweets. Will any of the teachers seize upon me and turn me out as a perniciouscharacter? I shall demand the return of my money if they do!"

"They're too busy, " laughed Gwen, "and besides, I don't think anyonewould recognize you. Miss Trent didn't see you, you know; she onlycaught me leaning out of the window. "

"Then you think I may venture without fear of consequences? I feelrather like Romeo going into the Capulet mansion. Can you give me awatchword to use if I get into difficulties?"

"The Rodenhurst Cot and Coin of the Realm are our two watchwords thisafternoon. Stick to those and you can't go wrong, even if you beardMiss Roscoe herself. She is over there if you'd like to shake handswith her. "

"No, thanks! I've no wish to risk such an ordeal. In fact I'll giveher as wide a berth as possible. Should you be allowed to negotiate anice if I brought you one?"

"Not while I'm on duty. Look here: 'You are requested not to speak tothe Woman at the wheel'. Here's a fresh batch of people arriving. "

"Mayn't I tear off the checks?"

"Certainly not. Go along and buy some of Lesbia's flowers, if she hasany left by now. If you don't scoot quick, I'll report you forimpeding me in the performance of my work. Then they'd turn you out, with a vengeance. "

"I'll be good, " chuckled Dick, as he moved on to find Lesbia, andinvest in her wares. 

The cycle parade was about to begin, and those who meant to take partin it were wheeling their machines through a private door which led fromthe stable yard into the field. Not only had the competitors decoratedtheir bicycles, but they themselves had donned fancy costumes, many ofwhich were of quite an elaborate description. There was a Dutch maidenwith white sleeves, velvet bodice, starched cap and wooden sabots, asweet little Miss Jap-Jap-Jappy in gay kimono, a flower tucked into herdark hair, an Indian squaw with bead-embroidered garments and fringedleggings, several pierrettes, a Red Riding Hood, a Goody Two Shoes, andother characters of nursery fame or fairy-tale lore. But the best ofall, so everyone agreed, was Rachel Hunter, who came arrayed as a cat. Her costume, cut on the pattern of a child's sleeping suit, was mostcleverly contrived out of brown plushette, painted in bold bars torepresent the stripes of a tabby. She wore a cat's mask on her head, andmade such an excellent representation of a gigantic specimen of thefeline race that the effect was quite appalling. The younger childrensquealed when she appeared on the field, especially as, to keep up hercharacter, she made an occasional claw at one of them as she passed, orgave vent to a tremendous "Miau!" or "Fuff!" She had decorated herbicycle with chocolate mice, and halted now and then to eat one withgreat apparent gusto, hugely to the delight of the juvenile portion ofthe audience, who clapped her again and again. But the real triumph ofher costume was her tail, a splendid appendage fully a yard in length. By a most ingenious contrivance of a strong wire spring, worked with apiece of elastic, she was able to curl and uncurl it, or to lash it toand fro in the most diverting fashion. Altogether Puss was a hugeattraction, she acted her part capitally, and when on reaching thejudge's stand she purred loudly, and pretended to wash her face with hertawny paw, the general cheering easily secured for her the first prize. 

The second prize was won by a classmate of Basil's from the Boys'Preparatory Department, who came attired as a golliwog, with blackenedface, fuzzy hair, and a selection of Dutch jointed dolls slung fromhis bicycle. His laurels were closely contested by a dainty MissButterfly and a picturesque Cavalier, but on the whole the funnycostumes seemed to find greater favour with the majority. 

Everybody voted the cycle parade an entire success, and the audiencelooked quite regretful as the long line of troubadours, Dolly Vardens, brigands, fairies snow queens, Italian peasants, Kate Greenawayrustics, and other interesting characters took their departure throughthe gate. But there were further items on the programme, and all eyesturned eagerly to the band of quaintly dressed little maidens who nowran out joyously hand in hand to perform the ancient ceremony ofplaiting the Maypole. The children had been well drilled, and hadpractised assiduously, so each took her ribbon with confidence, andstarted off at the sound of the music, to tread the intricate stepsrequired for the due twisting and combination of the colours. Theaffair went without a hitch, the maypole was plaited and unplaited, and the effect was so pretty that the audience encored theperformance. Feeling that they had covered themselves with glory, theMay-maidens retired to make room for the morris dancers, who werewaiting anxiously to have their turn. The oldfashioned costumes, withtheir decorations of flowers, ribbons, and bells looked well with thegreen field for a setting, and when the band struck up, and thedancers began their lively yet graceful motions, everyone felttransported back to mediaeval days, when the world was young andjoyous, and our country merited its title of "Merrie England". TheSecond Form girls, to whom had been assigned this portion of theprogramme, contrived admirably to convey the original spirit of thedance; their steps seemed so fresh and spontaneous and gay, theiractions so prompt and appropriate, and all went in such excellent timeto the music that the approving spectators accorded them an encore, much to their satisfaction, for they were anxious not to be beaten bytheir rivals the maypole plaiters. 

After the dancing was finished there was an interval for refreshmentsbefore the sports began. Tea and coffee were served on tables whichhad been carried out from the school, the ices were much in demand, and lemonade and ginger beer bottles maintained a brisk series ofpops. Gwen, whose duties had kept her by the entrance gate, had onlybeen able to view the festivities from a distance, and she could notyet desert her post as late comers were still arriving. 

"I've brought you a cup of tea, Gwen, if you can manage to drink it, and a slice of cake. It's rather hard you have to act sentry all theafternoon, " said Iris Watson. 

"I don't mind. It's prime fun taking the tolls. I feel like an ancientturnpike man. Thanks immensely for the tea! I'm more thirsty thanhungry, but I shan't despise the cake. Isn't it a piece of the oneyour mother sent?"

"Sweets, sixpence a box! Peppermint creams! Chocolate caramels! Almondtoffee! All home made! The best value for the money in all Stedburgh!Perfectly delicious! Buy a box and taste them!" called a well-knownvoice, and Lesbia marched up, smiling at her own eloquence. 

"Why, you young Cheap Jack, I thought you were selling flowers!"exclaimed Gwen. 

"So I was, but I completely cleared out my stock, and Miss Trent setme up in the confectionery line instead. I'm doing equally well, oreven better. By the by, can you give me change for a two-shillingpiece? Miss Douglas has just bought sixpenny-worth, and she hasnothing but a florin. I've this moment handed my money to Miss Trentto take care of. I've no pocket in this dress, and I gave my bag toMiss Barton with the proceeds of the flowers in it. Here's theflorin--I want a shilling and two sixpences for it, or else foursixpences. "

"Right-o!" said Gwen, opening her satchel. "Oh, bother! Here are somemore people arriving! You'll have to wait!"

"Do give it me, quick! Miss Douglas is in a hurry, " pleaded Lesbia. 

"Then take it out of my satchel yourself. Be sure you put in theflorin. "

Lesbia hastily complied and ran off, for Miss Douglas was beckoningto her impatiently, and teachers may not lightly be kept waiting. 

"Have you managed to get change? That's right--give me threesixpences, " said Miss Douglas, hurriedly putting the money in herpurse. "I have to rush indoors now and help to dress the 'Elizabethan'girls for the final madrigal. The whole affair's going very well. Wemay all congratulate ourselves on what we're making. "

"Hurrah for the Cot!" sang Lesbia, tripping away with a step that wasmeant to be in imitation of the morris dancers. 

The athletic sports, open to all comers, were naturally a greatfeature of the afternoon. The prizes had been given by various friendswho had responded so generously to the appeal made to them that theCommittee had been able to place a large number of competitions uponthe programme. The proceedings led off with a boys' flat race, inwhich Giles and Basil took part with great credit, though neither wasfortunate enough to outstrip the winner, a fleet-footed little brotherof Charlotte Perry. The obstacle races were voted immense fun, thehumorous feature being the performance of such feminine tasks asneedle threading or button stitching by the boys, and rapid beansorting by the girls. Giles and Basil were successful in athree-legged race, and Martin, to his huge delight, won the sack racefor visitors under seven. He bore away his prize--an indiarubberball--with great pride to show to Beatrice. Long jumping and highjumping proved equally popular both with boys and girls, some of therecords being excellent. Linda Browne a younger sister of HildaBrowne, particularly distinguished herself in this respect, and wonlaurels for the Lower Third. Vaulting over hurdles of varying heightsmade a graceful competition, and one in which Elspeth Frazer came offa victor. She was an athletic girl, and possessed a wonderful power ofspring that caused her to clear the bars like a bird. 

"Our Form hasn't done badly, " said Iris Watson, running to Gwen totell her of Elspeth's triumph. "Must you stick at this gate all thetime? Can't you leave it and compete for the dart-throwing contest?It's always ripping. Surely nobody else will come now?"

"Don't suppose they will, and I'd love to try the darts. But what am Ito do with this satchel? It contains solid wealth. "

"I'd give it to Miss Roscoe if I were you and ask her to take chargeof it. Can you lock it?"

"Yes, I have the key in my pocket. I'll put the unused checks insidewith the cash. There! That's safely locked up. The bag is quite heavy!The gate has made a splendid contribution towards the cot I feel sojubilant I want to 'cock-a-doodle'!"

Miss Roscoe readily took charge of the precious satchel, leaving Gwenfree to enter for any of the remainder of the sports in which shemight care to try her skill. The dart-throwing contest was just aboutto take place, so she promptly joined the ranks of the competitors. Each in turn had to throw six darts at a target, the one obtaining thehighest score securing the prize. It was a task that needed a true eyeand a firm hand, and proved far more difficult than most of the girlsanticipated. Some of them failed altogether to hit the target, andothers only achieved a chance dart in the outside rings. One or two ofthe Sixth Form did fairly well, but did not secure a bull's-eye. 

"They've fixed the distance too far. It's impossible to shy properlywhen one's such a long way off, " declared Charlotte Perry, retiringdisconsolately after a series of bad shots. "It's your turn now, Gwen. I wish you better luck than I've had. "

Gwen took her six darts and advanced to the white circle which wasmarked on the grass as the throwing place. It was a game which she hadplayed frequently at the Parsonage, where she had often matched herskill against that of her father and Beatrice. She had a strong armand a very true aim, two great essentials for success, and though thenumber of paces was certainly greater than that to which she wasaccustomed at home the increased distance did not seem an insuperabledifficulty. 

"I must throw a little higher and harder, that's all, " she said toherself. "Fortunately there's no wind blowing to speak of. "

Gwen's first shot went wide, but her second lodged in the outer ringof the target. Profiting by the experience she regulated her aim, andsent her third dart into the second ring. Her fourth and fifth werenearer the centre still and the spectators began to cheer. Only onedart remained; it was the best feathered of the six, and she hadpurposely kept it until the last. She poised it carefully, calculatedfor the slight breeze, then with a neat turn of her wrist hurled it asswiftly as possible at the target. It whistled rapidly through theair and lodged full in the bull's-eye. A storm of clapping greeted herachievement. She was the last on the list of competitors, so she hadgained a full and complete victory over her rivals in the contest. Shebeamed with satisfaction as she went up to receive her prize--a prettylittle silver brooch. 

She had no further good fortune, though she tried her luck in thepotato race and the ball-catching competition, which concluded thesports. It was now after five o'clock, and a procession of girls inElizabethan costume came on to the field to sing the final madrigalwhich was to wind up the fête. As the last strains died away and theband began "God Save the King", everybody joined in the NationalAnthem and gave three hearty cheers for the Rodenhurst Cot. 

"It has been a splendid afternoon, " said Miss Roscoe, as the crowdbegan to disperse and the sweet vendors and flower sellers came tohand over their gains. "I'm sure we shall have realized quite a largesum. It's too late to count our proceeds this afternoon. You must allgo home now, but if you have each labelled your own bag I will lockthem up in my safe until to-morrow. I think we may congratulateourselves on the success of our anniversary. It has more than answeredour expectations. "

Gwen went home in high glee. She had enjoyed her part of thecelebrations thoroughly, and the consciousness that she had originatedthe cot scheme gave an added degree of pleasure to the general senseof prosperous termination of the affair. As she walked with Lesbiaround the orchard that evening she indulged in a littleself-congratulation. 

"It is nice to have engineered all this!" she admitted. "Miss Roscoe'spleased about it, I'm sure. She was so gracious to me when I took hermy satchel. She actually called me 'dear'!--a thing she's never donein her life before. It's been a ripping day. School will seem quiteflat again after it. I wish there were another fête to look forwardto!"

"There's the tennis tournament, " suggested Lesbia. 

"Yes; but I shan't have much chance for that with my wretched oldracket!" sighed Gwen. 

"Suppose I'd a new one, and could lend it to you?" said Lesbiaquickly. "A lovely half-guinea one!"

"You don't possess half a guinea to buy one, my child!"

"But I do! I've got the money, and I'm going to get the racket I shallgo to Graham's to-morrow for it. "

"I thought your savings box was empty again? How in the name of wonderdid you come by ten and sixpence?"

"Never you mind--I've got it, and that's the main point, " repliedLesbia, turning very pink. 

"But how?"

"I shan't tell you! Leave me alone, Gwen! You've no right to pry intomy affairs. I never bother about yours. Let go my arm!" and Lesbia, blushing even more furiously, wrenched herself free and fled towardsthe house. 

Lesbia seldom had secrets, so her conduct was the more astonishing. Gwen gazed after her in great surprise, half inclined to follow herand press the point; but remembering that her Latin for the next daywas still unprepared, she fetched her books instead, and buried theremembrance of her sister's strange behaviour in Virgil and adictionary. 

CHAPTER XX

A Day of Reckoning

Gwen went to school next morning in the jauntiest of spirits. She wassatisfied with the part she had played both in organizing the fête andin helping to make it a success, and she fully expected approval fromheadquarters. 

"This will set me all right with Miss Roscoe now, " she thought. "She'll quite forgive me that business about Dick and the sweets onthe strength of a 'Rodenhurst Cot'. I think I've scored considerably. "

When at eleven o'clock, therefore, Gwen received a summons from thePrincipal, she was not at all dismayed, and presented herself in thestudy with a smiling face. To her surprise, however, she was hardlywelcomed with the enthusiasm she expected. Miss Roscoe looked graveand annoyed, and greeted her more as if she were a culprit than apraiseworthy collector of money. 

"Sit down, Gwen, " she said coldly, motioning her pupil to a chair nearher desk. "You can unlock your satchel and go over your accounts withme; then there is another matter that I wish to talk to you aboutafterwards. "

Feeling decidedly chilled, Gwen produced her key. Miss Roscoe emptiedthe contents of the bag on to a tray, and proceeded to count thevarious coins. She reckoned them twice over, frowned, consulted apaper, then turned to Gwen. 

"See how much you make it!" she said abruptly. 

Gwen carefully went over the piles of half-crowns, florins, shillings, and sixpences, and added them together. 

"I get thirteen pounds seven and six, " was her conclusion. 

"So do I, so we must both be correct, " returned Miss Roscoe. "Now thechecks that Moira Thompson received at the second gate registerthirteen pounds seventeen shillings. How is it you are nine andsixpence short?"

"Am I that much short?" cried Gwen. "It can't possibly be!"

"Look for yourself, " said Miss Roscoe. "The checks are all numbered. There are two hundred and fifty-one shilling admissions and fifty-twosixpenny ones. Examine the numbers on the rolls of checks left in yoursatchel; you will see they begin at Nos. 252 and 53. That means thatyou certainly issued 251 checks at a shilling and 52 at sixpence. Theright amount ought to have been in your bag. "

"Is there nothing left stuck in the corners?" asked Gwen, utterlydumbfounded at the defalcation. 

"Nothing whatever. Look and satisfy yourself. "

Gwen seized the satchel, and almost turned it inside out in hereagerness, but there was no remaining coin to be found. 

"Did you give any people checks without receiving the money inreturn?" enquired Miss Roscoe. 

"No, certainly not. I was most particular. I didn't let anybody inwithout paying. If they had no tickets I sold them checks. I don't seehow I can be all that amount wrong. "

"Unfortunately both our reckonings show the same deficit. What I wantto know, Gwen, is what has become of this missing nine and sixpence?"

"I can't imagine. "

"But it is your duty to account for it. You alone are responsible; andit is my duty to enquire where it has gone. "

"Miss Roscoe! You surely don't think I've pocketed it?" broke outGwen, the drift of the Principal's remarks suddenly dawning upon her. 

"I say nothing except that it is a very strange circumstance that youcannot produce it. Was the satchel in your own possession the whole ofthe afternoon?"

"Yes--at least--yes, it was!" stammered Gwen, looking very red andconfused. The remembrance had just struck her that she had allowedLesbia to take some change from her bag, and at the same instantLesbia's extraordinary behaviour of the evening before flashed acrossher mind. Could there possibly be any connection between the twoincidents? The idea was so horrible that she blushed at entertainingit even for a moment. 

Miss Roscoe glanced at her keenly. 

"Do you assume the full responsibility for this?" she asked in astrained voice. 

"Absolutely. Nobody except myself had anything to do with the gatemoney. "

The Principal's face, which had been grave before, took a yet sternerexpression. 

"I am sorry, Gwen. Very sorry and most concerned. I thought I couldhave trusted you entirely. It pains me beyond measure to find you havebetrayed my confidence. "

"But I didn't take that nine and six! I didn't, indeed! I don't knowwhere it has gone; but I haven't got it! How can you accuse me of sucha dreadful thing?" blurted out Gwen indignantly. 

"You can't deny the deficit, " returned Miss Roscoe icily. "There isthe evidence of the checks and the cash to prove it. As you are notable to account for it, I can only draw my own conclusions. As ithappens, I was this very morning made aware of the reason which musthave prompted your most dishonourable act. "

"What do you mean?" cried Gwen with a choke in her voice. 

For answer Miss Roscoe handed her a folded piece of paper. She openedit nervously. It was a bill from Messrs. Parker & Sons, Glass andChina Merchants, to Miss Gwen Gascoyne, for ten shillings "to accountrendered", and written at the bottom were the words: "Your immediatesettlement will oblige". It seemed such a bolt from the blue that Gwenturned all colours, and her hand trembled till she nearly dropped thepaper. 

"Ah, you may well look conscious, Gwen! I have just learnt the fullhistory of this most deceitful business. I have had a letter fromMrs. Goodwin, telling me that her daughter had confessed her share ofit, and as another bill for the broken china had arrived for you, directed under cover to Netta, she considered it best to forward it onto me, with an account of what had occurred, as it was only right thatI should know about it. She is most pained that her daughter shouldhave been even slightly implicated in such an affair, and Nettaherself seems truly to regret countenancing the deception andscreening you. I had a talk with her before school this morning. Icannot exonerate her, but she is at least sorry for her conduct. Withthis knowledge of your debt, Gwen, and your reasons for concealing it, of course I realize plainly enough why you have been foolish andwicked enough to take some of the gate money. No doubt you yielded toa desperate temptation; you had much better make a clean breast ofit. "

Gwen was trembling so greatly that she could hardly utter a reply. Several times her white lips framed the words before she gasped out:

"I did break the china, and I owe the ten shillings for it, but Inever took a penny from the satchel. I may be naughty, but I'm nothief!"

Miss Roscoe shook her head sadly. 

"What's the use of persisting in denying a fact that's absolutelypalpable?"

"But I didn't! Oh, I didn't!"

"It's little use arguing the matter at present, Gwen, if you take upthis stubborn attitude. If you think things over, you will see it ismuch better to confess. I have probably startled you by springing thenews upon you that I was aware of your substitution of my china teaservice. When you are calmer you will be more ready to acknowledgewhat you have done. Go to the little music room at the head of thestairs--it is not in use this morning--and stay there until I come orsend for you. Reflect seriously upon what I have said, and make upyour mind to be brave enough to tell me everything. "

With feet like lead, and a head that throbbed and burned, Gwen walkedupstairs. The little music room was unoccupied. It only contained apiano, a stool, and a chair, and on the last-named piece of furnitureshe sank down wearily. Her thoughts flew so rapidly through her brainthat she could scarcely regulate them. She felt as if a net had beenspread for her, and had entangled her unawares. First and foremost wasthe sense that Netta had betrayed her. Netta, who had promised at allcosts to keep her secret, had basely revealed it. She saw how cleverlyher old chum had managed to whitewash herself by making a confessionand feigning penitence, and how much darker this act caused Gwen's ownshare in the matter to appear by comparison. Naturally Miss Roscoeviewed Netta as the one with the tender conscience, and Gwen as theunrepentant sinner. 

"Why didn't I tell her myself that day I meant to, and got as far asthe study?" wailed the unfortunate culprit. "Then I should have beenspared all this!"

Why, indeed? How many of us mourn over our past follies andcowardices, bitterly regretting the wasted moment or the lostopportunity? Gwen's fault was indeed being visited heavily upon hershoulders. She had sown the wind and reaped the whirlwind. She feltkeen resentment against Netta. It was a dastardly trick to have playedupon her. Netta might at least have warned her that the bill was to besent on to Miss Roscoe--then she could have been prepared for theworst. It was surely mere spite on the part of her friend, who, havingquarrelled with her, was anxious to find some means of annoying her. Netta had been jealous of her new-found appreciation in the Form, andhad taken this opportunity of trying to humble her. The deficit in thegate fund filled Gwen with surprise. There seemed only one way ofaccounting for it, and that was so painful that she shrank from facingit. Lesbia had taken change out of the satchel, and that same eveningLesbia had acknowledged the possession of ten shillings, but hadrefused to reveal how she came by the money. 

Gwen groaned as she remembered her sister's conscious looks andevasive replies. Could it actually be possible that Lesbia hadabstracted this money? She was rather silly, flighty, andirresponsible, but she had always been truthful and honourable. No, itwas surely absolutely foreign to her character! Then where had sheobtained half a guinea to buy a new tennis racket? And what was thereason of her extreme embarrassment? Gwen abandoned the question indespair. 

"If she really did take it, I must shield her at any cost, " shedecided. "She'd get into such frightful trouble, and scolding Lesbiais like breaking a butterfly. I can bear things better than she can. But--oh, dear! What am I to say to Dad if he asks me? I can standMiss Roscoe's wrath, but I can't face making Dad look sorry. "

The Principal left Gwen until one o'clock to reflect upon her sins, then summoned her again to the study, and urged her in strong terms toconfess. 

"I will forgive you if you only acknowledge it, but if you persist indenying it, I shall have to go more deeply into the matter, " she saidsternly. "I cannot allow such things to happen at Rodenhurst. It is avery grave fault, Gwen. Do you wish me to send for your father?"

"No, no!" cried Gwen hastily. 

"Then will you confess?"

"I can't! I didn't do it! Oh, I don't understand!" responded Gwen, torn in two between the desire to defend herself and the fear ofinvolving Lesbia. She did not dare to tell Miss Roscoe that her sisterhad taken change from the satchel, yet by that circumstance only couldshe account for the loss. 

"Miss Douglas is as distressed as I am, " continued the Principal. "Iwas obliged to tell her, in order to explain your absence from yourclasses. Here she comes now. Perhaps she will be able to persuade youbetter than I. "

"Oh, Miss Roscoe, " exclaimed Miss Douglas, entering the study with ahurried step and a heightened colour, "I have just made the mostastounding discovery! I happened to look in my purse, and to myamazement and consternation I found half a sovereign which certainlyought not to be there. I am sure I know how I came by it. Yesterday, just before I went into the house to dress the girls who were to singthe Elizabethan madrigal, I bought a box of sweets from LesbiaGascoyne. I gave her a two-shilling piece, and as she had nosixpences, she ran to Gwen to ask change for my florin. She camehurrying back, and handed me, as we both imagined, three sixpences. Iput them in my purse without looking at them. Now I am quite sure thatone of these supposed sixpences must in reality have been half asovereign, given by mistake. I undoubtedly had no ten-shilling piecein my purse. The difference of giving half a sovereign in lieu ofsixpence would be exactly the nine-and-six that was missing fromGwen's satchel. Let us exchange the two coins, and the deficit will bemade up. "

It was such a natural, simple, and self-evident explanation of thesituation that its truth could not be doubted. Miss Roscoe heaved asigh of intense relief. 

"I am grateful to you beyond words, Miss Douglas, " she returned. "Gwen, I am most delighted that your honour is cleared, and regret Iharboured so unjust a suspicion against you. I confess it was theaffair of the broken china that prejudiced me in your disfavour. Itsupplied so strong a motive. Why didn't you come and tell me aboutthat right away when if happened instead of trying to settle it insuch a crooked fashion? It wasn't straight and square, was it? Have Iheard the whole story?"

Gwen, who had not shed a tear before, was crying bitterly now. MissRoscoe's present kindly tone hurt more than her former severity. Almost in spite of herself the girl began to blurt put her version ofhow she had accidentally broken the tea service, had intended to payfor it at once, and how Emma had absconded with the money. Thehousemaid's part in the drama was news to Miss Roscoe, and shehastened to ask for particulars. 

"This must be investigated immediately, " she declared. "I shall sendfor Emma Dalton this afternoon. I happen to know that she has a placeas parlour-maid at a house not far away. If I had heard of this Icould not have given her a character. Indeed she deserves to beprosecuted for theft. I must write a note to her present mistress. "

Miss Roscoe never let the grass grow under her feet. In this case sheacted with her usual promptitude, and by two o'clock Emma, in muchalarm, and weeping like a waterspout, was ushered into the study andconfronted with Gwen and Netta, who were both summoned for theoccasion. 

"Now, Emma, this is a serious charge. Have you anything to say foryourself?" enquired Miss Roscoe, seating herself at her desk with theair of a magistrate about to try a case. 

"I didn't pay the money at Parker's, and I don't deny it, " sobbedEmma. "I meant to, but I saw a coat and skirt I wanted, so I thoughtI'd borrow it, and the bill might just wait for a bit. I've intendedto go and settle every month when I got my wages, but it's neverseemed the right time. I didn't know Parker's were pressing for it. Oh, dear, I've been a bad girl!"

"You have indeed, " said Miss Roscoe. "It was wrong of Miss Gascoyneto ask you to help her to deceive me, but worse for you to defraudher. "

"It wasn't Miss Gascoyne that suggested sending back the broken chinato Parker's and saying nothing about it; it was Miss Goodwin, "declared Emma, pointing at Netta. "She planned the whole thing! Yes, Ican tell you she did. She's a deeper one than the other. It was halfher fault, I'll be bound!"

Netta's face was a study, especially as Miss Roscoe looked at herkeenly, though she made no remark. 

"I've brought the money with me, " continued Emma, still sobbing, "ifMiss Gascoyne will please take it and forgive me. "

"You don't deserve any consideration, Emma, " said Miss Roscoe. 

"For the sake of my mother!" pleaded Emma. "Oh, don't prosecute me! Itwould brand me for life!"

"Don't send her to prison, please!" interposed Gwen. 

"Well, we don't want to be too hard on you and ruin your life. Let itbe a warning to you to be honest in future. I am sure Miss Gascoynehas no wish to prosecute you. I shall be obliged to let your mistressknow about this, however. I gave you so good a character to her, thatit is not fair she should remain in ignorance of so serious a slip. She must be the judge whether she keeps you in her service or not. "

"I'll go home to my mother and work at dressmaking, " snivelled Emma asshe prepared to depart. "Here's the money, Miss Gascoyne; I'm sorry Itook it, and thank you kindly for not prosecuting. "

Netta fled from the study the moment Miss Roscoe gave her leave to go. She was anxious not to have to speak to Gwen, for she knew she had notbehaved well towards her. Emma's unexpected accusation had givenrather an awkward turn to the affair, and she had hardly come out ofit with the credit she expected. Gwen lingered behind. She felt shecould not leave without offering the apology which for seven longmonths she had wished to make. 

"Please, Miss Roscoe, I'm most dreadfully sorry about all this. I knowI ought to have come and told you at once when I knocked over the boxof china, " she blurted out abruptly. "I've been miserable the wholetime about it. "

"Well, Gwen, it's a lesson to keep square, isn't it? One little stepfrom the straight road often sends us farther out of our way than wehave any intention of going. I don't think you will descend toanything so underhand again, will you?"

"Never in all my life!" protested Gwen with energy. 

"Then we'll say no more about it. "

The news that Gwen had been suspected of appropriating some of thegate money had leaked out, as news always leaks out, and was receivedwith great indignation by the rest of the Fifth. 

"Gwen Gascoyne simply isn't capable of doing such an abominablething!" declared Elspeth Frazer. 

"No. Gwen's gauche and brusque, but she's unimpeachable, " agreed HildaBrowne. 

"I'd rather suspect myself!" said Charlotte Perry. 

Much satisfaction was expressed in the Form when the report of themistake in Miss Douglas's change was circulated, and Gwen's completeacquittal secured. Everybody congratulated her heartily when shereturned to the classroom. 

"You're the heroine of the hour, " said Louise Mawson. "It was anuncommonly disagreeable thing to happen. But in a bag full of changeit's very easy to confuse a half-sovereign and a sixpence. By the by, has Miss Roscoe added up all the accounts yet? How much have we made?"

"One hundred and fifty-three pounds altogether, " replied Gwen. "We gota hundred and nine pounds by collecting, and the gymkhana has madeforty-four. "

"Hooray! Then the cot is an accomplished fact. "

"We shall all have to pay a visit to the Convalescent Home and see it, as soon as the name is painted up over it, " said Hilda Browne. 

"Won't it look scrumptious to see 'Rodenhurst Cot' in black andwhite?" chuckled Charlotte Perry. 

"We shall have to publish reports of our special convalescents inevery number of the school magazine, " suggested Iris Watson. "It willbe so interesting to read about them. "

At four o'clock, by Winnie's express permission, Gwen went to Parker &Sons and made a final settlement of their account. The relief of beingfree from her load of debt was very great, and she came out of theshop happier than she had been since the day she first entered it. AsEmma had refunded the one pound two and sixpence in full, Gwen hadtwelve and sixpence in hand, and, in consequence, felt rich beyond thedreams of avarice. The vision of a new tennis racket began to dawn onher horizon. That evening she managed to cajole Father for a shortstroll on the moor. It was seldom she could secure such a_tête-à-tête_ walk, but she was longing so much to unburden her mindthat she gave him no peace until she had got him all to herself. Oncethey were seated on the heather, with the wold behind and the sea infront, Gwen began to pour out the story in her usual abrupt, jerkyfashion, not omitting the matter of the prize essay which she had soldto Netta. 

"Why didn't you tell me all this before, Gwen?" asked Mr. Gascoynewhen she had finished. 

"Because--oh, Dad, I thought it would worry you! Beatrice said youwere so dreadfully hard up. "

"It would have worried me far more to feel that you owed money. Howmuch did Netta Goodwin lend you?"

"A sovereign. "

"Then I will make up your twelve and six to twenty shillings, and youshall pay her back. I don't like that transaction about the essay atall. "

"Netta doesn't deserve it!" exclaimed Gwen. 

"I dare say not, but your conscience demands it. Honour forbids you toexpose Netta, but the affair was so discreditable that I want yourpart at least to be set straight. That sovereign was ill-gotten gains, Gwen!"

"Oh, Dad! Are you very angry with me?"

"No, not angry, but I wish you'd trusted me. The whole business, childie, hasn't been on the square. "

"I knew it wasn't, all the time, " confessed Gwen, scrubbing her eyes. "But--oh, Dad, it was so hard! Why do such hard places come into one'slife?"

"To give one the opportunity to get strong. If everything were alwayspleasant and smooth and easy, we should be poor sort of creatures inthe end, with no character worth having. I feel that every day myself, and give thanks for the hard things, and I've had my share of them. "

Gwen looked at Father, and a sudden perception of his meaning sweptover her. Young as she was, she knew something of the struggles anddisappointments, the lack of appreciation, the mistrust, themisconstructions, the slights which had met him in his parish work, and the burden of poverty which he carried so bravely anduncomplainingly--somewhat, too, perhaps, she divined of the hopes hehad left behind. Her own little struggles faded into nothingness inthe shadow of his. 

"Yes, you've had a hard life, Dad, " she repeated slowly. 

"Sentry duty. That's all! A hard life is the soldier's post ofhonour, " said Father. 

He looked far out over the sea as he spoke, and it almost seemed toGwen as if his face shone. 

There was still one point which Gwen was anxious to elucidate, andthat was the reason of Lesbia's peculiar conduct in the orchard on theevening of the gymkhana, and where she had obtained the ten andsixpence of which she had spoken. Lesbia seemed very unwilling todiscuss the subject, but when the two girls were in their bedroom thatnight, Gwen held her to the point. 

"Oh, Gwen, you've got me in a corner!" protested Lesbia. "I didn'tmean to tell a soul about it, except Kitty Macpherson! Well, if youmust know, this is what happened. One day Kitty brought a copy of _TheGentlewoman's World_ to school. It had a beauty competition in it, andshe urged me to try my luck, so I sent up my photo--that one whichAunt Violet had taken of me when I was staying at Greylands. Itactually won a prize, and the magazine sent me a postal order for tenand sixpence. I didn't dare to tell any of you at home, because I knewyou'd all think me so terribly vain and conceited. Beatrice isfearfully down on me for that kind of thing, and I knew the boys wouldtease, and call me 'Proudie' and 'Madam Conceit'. "

Gwen laughed long and heartily. She did not tell her little sister ofthe unjust suspicion she had for a short time harboured against her. The whole affair was so exactly like Lesbia, from the competing for abeauty prize to the careless taking of wrong change. 

"How will you explain your new tennis racket?" she enquired. "Beatricewill ask where you got the money to buy it. "

"I never thought of that. I suppose I shall have to confess, then, andbe labelled 'Miss Vanity', " sighed Lesbia. "It's a ripping racket, Gwen. It's exactly the same that Kitty Macpherson has. I'll lend it toyou whenever you want it. Are you cross with me for not telling youbefore?"

"No, dear; it wasn't such a fearful crime after all, " returned Gwen, half sighing, for Lesbia's secret seemed so much more innocent a onethan her own had been. 

CHAPTER XXI

Retribution

Gwen took back the sovereign next morning to Netta, who received itwith amazing coolness. 

"An unexpected blessing, " she remarked. "I'd put that sov. Down as abad debt. Better late than never. We're quits now, Gwen Gascoyne. "

"Not altogether, " returned Gwen. "I've set my part straight, butyou've still got the credit for my essay. You haven't put that torights. "

"Catch me telling!" laughed Netta. "No, my good Gwen, that's a littletoo much to ask. Don't expect more than you're likely to get, and thenyou won't be disappointed. I'm afraid I must still consider Mr. ThomasCarlyle my special property. You really can't eat your cake and haveit. "

"That's exactly what you're doing, " retorted Gwen. "You took my essay, and now you've got the sovereign as well. "

"But I helped you out of a temporary difficulty. You forget that, anddon't show as much gratitude as you might. "

"Not much cause for gratitude, " grunted Gwen. 

"This is what comes of being too philanthropic. I won't help anybodyout of scrapes again. One never gets thanked for it. "

"Not when you give your help on such terms. "

It was no use arguing with Netta, so Gwen turned away, glad to haveclosed the transaction, even though she had been decidedly the loser. There were plenty of other matters to occupy her mind, as thisafternoon the tennis trials were to take place as a preliminary toplaying for the Form trophy, and later for the County shield. Gwen hadgiven in her name to Moira Thompson, the head of the games committee, and expected that she would be accepted at least for the trials. Norwas she mistaken, for when, at two o'clock, Moira pinned her paper onthe notice board, the fourth couple down for singles were GwenGascoyne against Geraldine French. All the school was assembled towatch the play, since on this afternoon's victories would largelydepend the future choice of champions. 

"Here's my new racket. Do use it--it's a perfect beauty, " whisperedLesbia, edging through the crowd, and pushing her treasured possessioninto her sister's hand. "It will just make all the difference to yourplay. "

Gwen accepted the loan thankfully. Her old racket had been hergreatest impediment, and she had not liked to borrow often from herclassmates. As Lesbia had prophesied, it made all the difference toher serves, and she played up in a way that astonished everybody. Geraldine French, who was considered almost invincible by the Sixth, had not taken Gwen seriously, and was therefore most electrified anddisgusted to find herself beaten by a Fifth Form girl of no particularreputation in the world of tennis. The Fifth were in a state ofimmense delight. 

"Gwen's serves to-day were unique, " declared Iris Watson. "If she cankeep this up our Form may have a chance for the trophy. "

"I'd no idea Gwen could do so well, " agreed Elspeth Frazer. "She'ssuddenly developed into quite a crack player. "

"And she's such long legs and arms, she seems all over the court, andscarcely misses a ball. "

"She's shown up in a new light this afternoon. We shall have to thinkher over for a championship. "

The match for the Form trophy was to be played in a week's time. Atpresent the beautiful silver cup was in the possession of the Sixth, but the Fifth were not without hopes of winning it, and transferringit to the chimney piece of their own classroom. It was anold-established custom at Rodenhurst that after the trials had takenplace each Form competing for the trophy should vote its ownchampions. The election was naturally a highly exciting event; all thepoints of the various candidates' play were carefully discussed, andthe two who were considered the most likely to do credit to the Formwere returned. On this occasion five girls appeared of such equalmerit that the running between them would be very close. Hilda Browneand Charlotte Perry were last year's champions, and were steadyplayers, though many thought that Charlotte had gone off a little inher serves. Betty Brierley was brilliant but unreliable, sometimesmaking more splendid scores than anybody in the school, and sometimesplaying love games. Netta Goodwin had a special reputation for backwork, in which she excelled, and this circumstance might verypossibly cause her to be chosen in conjunction with a good netchampion. Gwen's unexpected prowess had been a complete surprise tothe Form, and had made such a favourable impression that many wereinclined to vote for her. To none of the five girls did the vision ofa championship appear more attractive than to Netta. She loved toshine, and it was a sore point with her that she was not more popularin her Form. Here, at any rate, seemed a chance to gain the applauseof her schoolfellows. She was conscious of playing well, and thoughshe was not a general favourite, she knew the girls did not allowindividual preferences, as a rule, to bias their judgment when it wasa question of winning or losing the trophy. She canvassed diligently, put any pressure she could bring to bear upon her particular friends, and began carefully to reckon up how many votes she could reasonablycount upon. The result was not altogether reassuring. Both HildaBrowne and Gwen seemed powerful rivals to her pretensions, and thechances were that the election would return Hilda for first champion, and either Gwen or Charlotte Perry for second. The prospect of beingbeaten in an affair upon which she had set her heart filled Netta withdismay. 

The voting was by ballot, and took place in the classroom immediatelyafter morning school. When the bell rang the girls did not immediatelyleave their desks as usual, but sat still while Miss Douglasdistributed to each a half sheet of notepaper and an envelope. Allthat was required was to write down the names of two champions, foldthe paper and put it in the envelope. No signatures were allowed, sothat even Miss Roscoe should not know who had voted for whichcandidate. The whole affair did not take more than a few minutes. Thegirls hastily scribbled the names of their favourites, many of them infeigned handwritings, fastened their envelopes, and then returningthem to Miss Douglas, left the classroom. 

"I wonder how soon we shall know the result!" said Netta, as the Formtrooped downstairs. 

"It depends upon how soon Miss Roscoe has time to count them, " repliedIris Watson. "She may be in her study now, or she may be too busy tolook at them until four o'clock. "

"Too bad to leave us in suspense. "

"I'm not going to think about it, " said Charlotte Perry. "It will betime enough to rejoice or moan when one knows. "

"Oh, bother the election!" said Betty Brierley. "Come and see if wecan get a court and have a set before dinner. "

Netta did not follow the others to the tennis grounds. She was muchmore anxious about the result of the ballot than they, and had noheart at present for playing. Instead, she walked into school again, and finding the door of Miss Roscoe's study open, she peeped in. Theroom was empty, and on the desk lay the nineteen envelopes, eachmarked solely with a large V, that represented the voting of the FifthForm. Netta looked at them wistfully. How she longed to open them andlearn their contents! Such a proceeding was, of course, impossible, and she turned away with a sigh. As her glance wandered round theroom, she noticed a large parcel of stationery which had just beenunpacked, and lay spread upon a side table. Miss Roscoe had evidentlyopened it to get the paper and envelopes needed for the election, andhad not yet had time to put it away in the drawers of her secretaire. Then suddenly an idea occurred to Netta--an idea so original anddaring that she almost laughed at her audacity in entertaining it. Itwas a scheme which no other girl in the Form would have dreamt of fora moment, but Netta was troubled with few scruples of conscience, andwas never deterred by a question of honour from attaining her wishes. Very quickly she abstracted nineteen envelopes and ten sheets ofnotepaper, and fled with her spoil to her own classroom. She boltedalong the passage and upstairs in such a tremendous hurry that she didnot notice the impish face of Ida Bridge peering from the Second Formroom as she passed. 

"Oho, Miss Netta Goodwin! What's the matter with you?" thought Ida. "You have an uncommonly guilty look about you, almost as if you werecommitting a crime. What's up, I wonder? I think I'm just going totrack you and see. "

Since the stormy episode on the day when the Second Form girls wererehearsing for their morris dance, Ida Bridge had detested Netta. Shefelt she owed her a grudge, which she was most anxious to pay if areasonable opportunity could only be found. She followed now posthaste, and adopting the tactics of a scout, waited till Netta wassafely inside the Fifth Form room, then peeped cautiously round thedoor. What she saw did not particularly enlighten her. Netta wasbusily tearing sheets of notepaper in half, was scribbling somethingon them, blotting them and putting them into envelopes. No one elsewas in the room, and there was nothing to suggest an explanation ofthis rather mysterious employment. 

"I'm sure she's up to something, though, " murmured Ida to herself, still keeping a watchful eye on the enemy's movements. Netta wroteaway, and kept folding her pieces of paper with record speed; therewas a complacent look on her face, and she chuckled occasionally, asif with deep satisfaction. At the sound of the dinner bell shestarted, and hurriedly swept her correspondence into her desk. Ida, with admirable presence of mind, bolted into the empty Sixth Form roomopposite, and having seen Netta depart down the corridor, took theliberty of going to make an inspection of what she had been doing. 

"Um--indeed! What have we here?" said Ida, opening the desk. "Envelopes marked with a V, and sheets of paper with names on. Let'stake a look at them. 'Hilda Browne--Netta Goodwin. ' 'NettaGoodwin--Gwen Gascoyne. ' 'Betty Brierley--Netta Goodwin. ' 'CharlottePerry--Netta Goodwin. ' All in such different styles of writing, too! Ibelieve I begin to see daylight. Now, shall I go and call Miss Douglasat once to look at this? No--it's incriminating, but not sufficientevidence to convict. I must let things develop a little further first. I think I'd better have a witness, too. Miss Netta Goodwin, I believeyou're going to be rather too clever for once, and that you'll findyourself outwitted by one of the despised Juniors. "

Ida Bridge was late for dinner that day, but she took Miss Roscoe'sreproof with a sangfroid at which her Form marvelled. 

"I don't care if I have to write fifty lines as a punishment, " shemurmured to her neighbour and chum, Peggy Weston. "What I've justdiscovered is worth a thousand lines. I can't explain why now, but themoment dinner is over you and I must stalk Netta Goodwin, and, withoutletting her know it, never take our eyes off her till afternoon schoolbegins. "

Quite unconscious that two small spies had resolved to keep hermovements under surveillance, Netta slipped away from her friendsafter dinner, and returned to the classroom. It did not take her longto finish her task; she had soon fastened her nineteen envelopes, then, concealing them in an exercise-book cover, she hurrieddownstairs. Miss Roscoe's study was still empty, and nobody seemedabout, for Netta never noticed the cautious pair who were dodging andwatching in her rear as cleverly as a couple of young detectives. After a hasty glance round the room she advanced to the Principal'sdesk, and deeming herself quite unobserved, rapidly exchanged the pileof envelopes there for those which she had brought with her. She gaveone look of satisfaction at the substituted set--they were such anexcellent imitation--and bore off the genuine ballot to the Fifth Formroom. Ida and Peggie, with breathless interest, followed, and saw herputting the stolen goods into her desk; then, having witnessed asmuch as they considered necessary, they flew in hot haste to lodge theinformation with their own Form mistress. Miss Broughton, amazed atwhat they told her, sought Miss Roscoe, who summoned Ida and Peggie, and listened attentively to their story. 

"This must be enquired into promptly, " she declared. "Come with me atonce to the Fifth Form. "

The girls had just assembled for afternoon school when the Principalentered, bearing the substituted pile of envelopes, and accompanied byIda and Peggie. 

For Miss Roscoe to arrive at such a time was an absolutelyunprecedented occurrence. A dead silence at once reigned. Everybodywondered what had happened, and why Miss Roscoe should have broughtthe two children with her. The headmistress walked straight up toNetta's seat. 

"Netta Goodwin, " she said, "such an extraordinary incident has justbeen reported to me that I feel it is my duty to investigate itimmediately. I wish to see what you have here, " and, throwing up thelid, she began to investigate the contents of the desk. 

Netta gave a gasp as if an earthquake had opened at her feet, andturned deathly white. She did not venture to say a word. All in theroom waited in mute suspense, realizing that the matter must be ofvital importance. With a sad face Miss Roscoe drew out the nineteenenvelopes and compared them with those which she held in her hand. 

"I have a very serious charge against you, Netta Goodwin, " she saidsternly. "You were observed in the act of taking these letters from mystudy, and substituting a similar set which you had yourself written. Ida Bridge and Peggie Weston can testify that they themselveswitnessed your deed. I have a strong suspicion of your motive, and Iam going to open the envelopes to ascertain if I am correct. "

Putting each pile separately, Miss Roscoe rapidly tore open the twoballot sets, and glanced over them. 

"It is a peculiar circumstance, " she remarked icily, "that in theoriginal voting papers your name occurs only nine times, and in thesubstituted papers eighteen times. "

A wave of indignation passed round the Form. The girls at lastunderstood the point, and realized the full significance of Netta'saction. The excitement was intense, though awe for the headmistressforbade anybody to speak. 

"To make absolutely certain, " continued Miss Roscoe, "we will take thevoting again. Miss Douglas, will you kindly deal a sheet of exercisepaper to each desk? Now I put everyone on her honour to repeat thenames of the two candidates that she wrote this morning. "

For a moment the girls scribbled, then folded the papers and handedthem to Miss Douglas, who went round the room to collect them. MissRoscoe examined them attentively, and compared them with some figuresshe had jotted down. 

"They correspond absolutely with the papers which I have just found inyour desk, Netta Goodwin! Ida Bridge, come here! It is only fair thatNetta should hear your accusation. Tell me again, in her presence, exactly what you witnessed. "

"Please, Miss Roscoe, " began Ida in her high-pitched voice, "I sawNetta come out of your study before dinner, and come here. I peepedround the door, and she was writing something on half-sheets of paper, and putting them inside envelopes. Then I told Peggie, and afterwardswe watched her go into your study again and put her pile of envelopeson your table, and take yours away and pop them into her desk. "

"Do you endorse this statement, Peggie Weston?"

"Yes, Miss Roscoe, it's quite true, " murmured Peggie nervously. 

"Netta Goodwin, have you anything to answer in reply to this charge?"

But Netta kept her eyes on the ground, and did not reply. Miss Roscoe, who was still standing beside the open desk, began to turn over someof the loose pieces of exercise paper which it contained, and shookher head as she noticed the names of various candidates scrawled indifferent handwritings, evidently for practice. Determined toinvestigate the affair thoroughly, she pulled out yet more papers, andamong them a small roll fastened by a brass clip. At this she glancedwith attention, then with marked surprise. "Netta Goodwin, " shecontinued, "this is an entirely different matter, but one which Ishould like explained nevertheless. Last term you gained a prize foran essay on Thomas Carlyle. How is it that there is a manuscript ofthis essay in your desk, signed 'Gwen Gascoyne'? Yes, and in Gwen'shandwriting, too, which I know well. "

Netta glanced hastily at Gwen, who had turned as red as fire. Perhapsfeeling that she had already been so entirely exposed that an addedcircumstance would make little difference, and wishing to get Gwenalso into trouble, Netta suddenly resolved to make a full confession. 

"I suppose I may as well tell everything, " she volunteered sulkily. "Yes--I did want to get the tennis championship, and I altered thenames because I didn't think I had a chance otherwise. About thatessay, it was Gwen Gascoyne's. She wrote it, but she sold it to me fora sovereign. "

"And you passed it off as your own?"

"I'd paid for it, so I just copied it. I couldn't see where the harmcame in!" said Netta doggedly. 

"Netta Goodwin, have you absolutely no sense of right and wrong, orany vestige of conscience?"

"I can't see that I'm worse than some other people, " replied Netta, with a spiteful glance at Gwen. 

"Gwen Gascoyne, did you sell this essay to Netta?"

"Yes, Miss Roscoe, " gulped Gwen, covered with shame, and too muchembarrassed to offer any explanation. 

"I shall have a word with you later on. Netta, by your own confessionyou admit appropriating a schoolfellow's work last term, and alteringthe voting papers this afternoon. Forgery is a very ugly word and onewhich I am sorry to use, but there is no other name for what you havedone. In all the years of my headmistress-ship here such a thing hasnot occurred before. I have had unruly and disobedient girlsoccasionally, but in the whole of my experience never a girl sodeliberately bad as you. It is well for the school that this hasoccurred, and that I have discovered your true character; yourinfluence must have been most pernicious, and I can only hope that ithas not already done harm. It is, of course, impossible for me toallow you to remain at Rodenhurst. It is the first time I have beenobliged to expel a pupil, and I much regret the necessity, but I feelthat to keep you would be to retain a source of moral infection. Youwill go home at once. Your books and any other articles belonging toyou will be sent after you, and I shall write to your parents, informing them of the circumstances under which you have been sentaway. I am grieved for the sorrow which I know it will cause them. Go!"

Miss Roscoe pointed peremptorily to the door, and Netta, all herjaunty, self-confident airs gone for once, with downcast eyes that didnot dare to meet the scorn of her schoolfellows, and white lips thatquivered with passion, slunk ignominiously from the room. ThePrincipal waited a few minutes to allow her time to go downstairs, then she ordered Ida and Peggie back to their own classroom, andturned with a sigh to Gwen. 

"You will come with me to the study, " she said briefly. Gwen followedin a state of abject misery. Was she never to finish reaping thatharvest of tares, the sowing of which she had already so bitterlyrepented. One initial slip had indeed plunged her into undreamt-oftrouble. 

"Well, Gwen, you had better tell me all about this unhappy business, "said Miss Roscoe as soon as they were alone. "Let us get to the bottomof everything this time, and leave nothing concealed. "

Hard though it was to make confession, Gwen was almost glad to havethe opportunity of doing so, and of at last setting straight the lastthreads of the tangled web she had woven. She felt that she would havetold before about the essay if Netta had not been implicated, but herfather had agreed that she could not in honour expose herschoolfellow. By skilful cross-questioning Miss Roscoe soon gatheredthe facts of the case. 

"I understand, " she said thoughtfully; "I am glad you paid back thatsovereign, Gwen! It gives me a higher opinion of you than I shouldotherwise have had. I judge that your own conscience and your father'sdisapproval have punished you so severely that I can add little morein the way of reproof. I can trust you not to do such a thing again. Do I now know absolutely the whole of that transaction?"

"Every scrap!"

"Then we will consider the slate wiped clean. "

"Thank you just a thousand times!" said Gwen, as Miss Roscoe with anod dismissed her from the study. 

CHAPTER XXII

The Tennis Tournament

Netta's expulsion naturally made a great sensation in the school. Toprevent misconceptions Gwen told her classmates the entire story bothof the breaking of the china and the selling of her essay. Theyalready knew so much, that she felt it was better for them to learnthe whole; they could then form their own judgment of the case, anddecide upon what terms they would receive her back amongst them. 

"I'm fearfully sorry about it, " she said in conclusion; "I know Idon't deserve you to be decent to me. "

"I'm extremely glad you've told us, " said Hilda Browne, actingmouthpiece for the rest. "It explains so very much. We never couldunderstand why you were friends with Netta, and it made us think badlyof you that you seemed so chummy with such a girl. But of course thisaccounts for it. I won't whitewash you, but since you're sorry, I votewe all agree to drop the thing. "

"Yes, anyone who refers to it will be a sneak, " agreed Elspeth Frazer. "Gwen's made a fresh start, and it's not fair that any old scoresshould be raked up against her. Netta's gone, of which I'm heartilyglad, and I hope now there'll be a better tone altogether throughoutthe whole Form. "

Elspeth mentioned no names, but she looked meaningly at Annie Edwards, Millicent Cooper, and Minna Jennings, and the three reddened beneathher glance. They were not bad girls, but they were weak, and underNetta's sway they had been very silly, and sometimes dishonourable. 

"We must all try and help each other to keep rules, " said Hilda Brownequickly and tactfully. "I'm sure none of us like cheating, and thatwe'd every one be willing to promise to be absolutely square in ourwork, and in games and everything. Shout 'Aye!' those who agree. "

Eighteen voices were raised in unison, Annie's, Millicent's, andMinna's among the heartiest. 

"Carried unanimously!" said Hilda, with a sigh of satisfaction. 

"Now the matter's thrashed out, let's talk about tennis, " said EdithArnold. "Do you know, Gwen Gascoyne, that you were elected one of ourForm champions?"

"Oh! oh!" gasped Gwen. 

"Yes, you and Hilda Browne were the pair chosen, and we look to youboth to win the trophy. "

"You take net, then, Hilda, and I'll take back, " suggested Gwen. 

"Netta was certainly very good at back-balls, " began Minna Jennings, but Elspeth Frazer struck in immediately:

"Let us please agree that Netta Goodwin's name is not mentioned againin this Form. She's best forgotten. I think Hilda and Gwen will worktogether splendidly. They must practise as much as they can beforeFriday. "

Thus forgiven and reinstated both by Miss Roscoe and the Form, Gwenfelt she had at last started quite anew, with her bygones to beremembered only as danger signals for the future. Her elevation to theproud position of Form champion half elated and half weighed her down. It was an enormous responsibility to have to compete for the trophy, and she hoped her play would justify the girls' choice. Fridayafternoon was to be given up to the match, the Forms allowed to takepart being the Sixth, the Fifth, the Upper, Middle, and Lower Fourth, handicaps, of course, being arranged by the Committee. The event wasone of the chief excitements of the term, and when Friday arrived thewhole school turned out to act audience. The Fifth was drawn to playfirst with the Lower Fourth, and in spite of a heavy handicap scoredan easy victory. 

"Not much triumph in beating those kids, " remarked Gwen. "They'resimply not in the running. "

"Our trials are all to come, " agreed Hilda. "We're against the UpperFourth now, and if we beat them, then we may expect our tussle withthe Sixth. "

"I'm shaking in my shoes already!"

"Don't make too sure; the Upper Fourth are better than the Lower, andneed taking seriously. We may lose on this. "

"I think the handicap's too big, " grumbled Gwen. 

As Hilda had prophesied, the Upper Fourth proved adversaries worthy oftheir skill. Eve Dawkins and Myra Johnson were both as old and nearlyas tall as Gwen, and they played up with grim determination. At firstthe score went against the Fifth, and the spectators watched withkeenest interest, but in the end Gwen's swift serving told, and Eveand Myra retired vanquished. The Middle Fourth had already been beatenby the Sixth, so it was now the Final between Sixth and Fifth. 

"When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug-of-war!" said Hilda. 

"I found a four-leaved clover this morning on the wold, and I'vepinned it on to my dress as a mascot, " returned Gwen. 

"May it bring us luck! though I believe in play more than in mascots. Keep as cool as you can, Gwen, and remember Olga's nasty balls. "

"I'll do my best, though I'm afraid you'll all rue choosing me for achampion, " said Gwen, as she took her place. 

Geraldine French and Olga Hunter, their two opponents, were renownedplayers in the school, and very few of the lookers-on expected theFifth to have any chance at all. 

"I'm afraid we'll lose!" sighed Edith Arnold. 

"Oh, we won't give up too soon!" declared Elspeth Frazer. "Geraldineis in form to-day, certainly, and Olga is serving swifter than I'veever known her before, but we haven't proved yet what Hilda and Gwenare capable of. "

It was Olga's serve. She sent one of her famous invincible balls, which hardly rose from the ground, and Gwen missed it. A suppressedcheer rose from the adherents of the Sixth. Gwen clenched her teethhard, and watched for the next ball with the expression of a RedIndian. It skimmed over the net as swiftly as its predecessor, butGwen was prepared this time, and returned it. 

"Well played!" cried the Fifth ecstatically. 

All four champions were on their mettle, and the fight that ensued wasof the keenest. Gwen was not a graceful player, but, as her friendsobserved, she seemed capable of being everywhere at once, she was soextremely lithe and quick. 

"Very good! Excellent!" were the remarks that passed round at certainof the strokes. 

"I'd no idea Gwen had it in her!" commented Miss Trent. 

In spite of Gwen's exertions the first game fell to the Sixth. Theywere heartily clapped, and the Fifth began to look rather blue. Eachside now played with extreme caution. They had taken one another'smeasure, and knew what they had to expect. Hilda Browne kept her nervewell, and her serves were acknowledged to be what the girls called"clinchers". As for Gwen, her arms seemed elastic. This time the Sixthwere beaten, and the Fifth began to breathe. 

"It would be just too ripping if we really won!" exclaimed BettyBrierley. 

"We mustn't crow too soon, we're not out of the wood yet, " returnedIrene Platt. 

The excitement had risen to high-water mark. Some of the school werefor the Sixth, and some for the Fifth, and their rival claims werediscussed eagerly. 

"Try and think you don't mind, and then you'll be far less nervous, "whispered Hilda to Gwen. 

Gwen nodded. She had almost passed the stage of nervousness. 

"We can't do better than our best, " she replied. 

Perhaps Olga and Geraldine were nervous too; they made one or two badstrokes which seemed to put them out considerably. Gwen, on thecontrary, surpassed herself. Never in her life before had she playedso well. She seemed able to take every ball in whatever awkward spotit landed. Thanks largely to her ubiquity, the set ended in thetriumph of the Fifth. A tremendous clapping and cheering ensued. Forthree years the Sixth had held the trophy, so it was indeed an honourto have won it from their possession. Gwen and Hilda were absolutelyfêted by their Form, and even the vanquished Sixth had the magnanimityto praise their play. 

"Gwen Gascoyne is simply A1, " was the general verdict. "She's aperfect surprise. We didn't know we'd anyone so good in the school. "

"Look here, Gwen, you and Olga will have to enter for the shield. Youand she have proved yourselves far and away the best champions thisafternoon, " said Bessie Manners. 

"Compete for the shield!" cried Gwen, turning hot with pleasure at thebare idea. 

She and Hilda were called up then to receive the trophy, and boreaway the silver cup with much pride. All the Form marched into theschool to see it put in its place upon the mantelpiece of theirclassroom. 

"Well done, the old Fifth!" said Betty Brierley. 

"And hurrah for its champions!" added Rachel Hunter. 

To Gwen, though the winning of the trophy had been a wild delight, Bessie's hint was a cause of even greater excitement. Rodenhurstbelonged to the County United Schools' Tennis League, which every yearplayed a big tournament in Stedburgh. Ten different schools were inthe league, four being from Stedburgh and the others from variousplaces in the neighbourhood. Each sent their two best champions; theprize, a large brass shield mounted on oak, becoming for the year theproperty of the winners. Though Rodenhurst usually did fairly well, ithad not been able to compete with some of the boarding schools in thedistrict, and at each successive tournament had been obliged to seeothers bearing away the coveted honours. Last time the Radcaster HighSchool had come off victorious, a circumstance particularly annoyingto Rodenhurst, as they felt they had been beaten by day girls likethemselves. 

"Boarding schools get more time to practise, and have always morecourts in proportion than we have, " so they grumbled. "One expects aboarding school to have an advantage, but we mustn't let the RadcasterHigh score over us again. "

The tournament always occupied a whole Saturday, and was held at theStedburgh Pavilion Gardens, an excellent place for the purpose, fornot only could the best-kept courts in the county be hired, but therewas plenty of accommodation for spectators, and refreshments could beobtained at the restaurant, a consideration for those schools whichcame from a distance. It was necessary for entries to be sent in atonce, and when, as Bessie Manners had suggested, Olga Hunter and GwenGascoyne were appointed champions, all Rodenhurst joined in approvalof the choice. 

"But it's to-morrow week!" quavered Gwen. 

"You'll just have to practise like billy-ho!" said Betty Brierley, whowas addicted to slang. 

Nobody dared to indulge in any very particular hopes. It was one thingto gain a Form trophy, but quite another to win the shield of theleague. 

"I hear Miss Crawford's girls are in good form this year, " said RachelHunter, who had a cousin at a school at the other side of Stedburgh. "Nell says they're pretty confident. "

"They won't beat those twins from Appleton House. Their serves wereripping, " returned Betty. "I forget their names, but I sometimes seethem on the Parade. "

"Unless they've gone off in their play. "

"Yes, of course--people occasionally do. One can never tell from yearto year. Do you remember Freda Harmon? She swept everything beforeher, and then she grew too fat and was a dismal failure. "

"Would you like me to bant in case of accidents?" laughed Gwen. "You'd better weigh me daily, like they do jockeys. "

"There's a great deal in luck, " said Charlotte Perry. "If you draw thecrack school you may be done for straight away. "

Gwen practised her utmost during the brief week before the tournament, and congratulated herself that her play improved. She had her choiceof rackets, for everyone was not only willing but anxious to lend herthe best obtainable. She tried a selection, until she found the onethat suited her best. It was the property of Natalie Preston, whogladly relinquished it in her favour. 

"If it wins the tournament I shall be proud!" declared Natalie. 

"'If' is sometimes an important word!" answered Gwen, with a dubiousshake of her head. 

On the eventful Saturday every member of the Fifth and Sixth andnumbers of the Juniors turned up at the Pavilion Gardens to watch thecontest. Miss Roscoe and most of the mistresses were there, and manyfriends who were interested in the fortunes of Rodenhurst. Most of theother schools were equally well represented, so that the audience wasa large one. Olga Hunter, who was a pretty girl with chestnut hair, looked charming in a white dress, and large ribbon knots of pink andlight blue--the Rodenhurst colours--pinned beside her badge. Gwen, inplain serge skirt and low-necked muslin blouse looked prepared forbusiness, if not so ornamental as her companion. Winnie had made her alittle bouquet of roses and forget-me-nots to match her colours, andBeatrice had lent her a pale-blue belt for the occasion. 

"I haven't got a hobble skirt, at any rate!" laughed Gwen. "Do youremember that girl from Ravensfield last year, and how fearfullyhampered she was?"

Gwen was most tremendously excited at the greatness thrust upon her. To represent Rodenhurst at the tournament seemed honour enough even ifshe were vanquished in the very beginning. 

"I wish Dad could have been here!" she sighed. 

But neither Mr. Gascoyne nor Beatrice could spare the time on thisparticular Saturday, so Winnie and Lesbia were the only members of thefamily present. 

Rodenhurst had been drawn against Hetherby College for the first set, much to their relief, for Hetherby had no particular reputation. Gwenand Olga played carefully nevertheless, for, as Olga justly remarked, "You can never tell beforehand how a school may have improved. " TheCollegians were better, certainly, than last year, but their game wasnot up to much, and they were easily beaten. At the conclusion of thefirst round, Rodenhurst, being among the winning couples, drew again, and this time was matched against Appleton House. The twins of whomBetty Brierley had spoken were again champions, and proved no meanrivals. Gwen had an anxious moment or two when she thought the creditof Rodenhurst trembled in the balance, but by frantic efforts on herpart and Olga's, the set was secured, and the twins conquered. 

"You're getting on splendidly!" said Bessie Manners at lunchtime, plying the so-far victorious pair with ham sandwiches and lemonade. "Everybody says Rodenhurst is looking up. I feel so proud of you!"

"Too soon to rejoice! We haven't tackled Miss Crawford's girls yet, and then there'd be Radcaster, " replied Gwen. 

"It makes one wildly hungry!" declared Olga. 

"You mustn't have more than four sandwiches and a bun, or it'll spoilyour play, " interposed Bessie, who considered herself in the light ofa trainer for her special champions, and enforced her rules withSpartan severity. 

Olga sighed humorously, but obeyed. 

"There was a rumour that Ravensfield lost the shield one year onbuns, " she remarked. "I don't wish a like fate to befall Rodenhurst. "

It was immensely encouraging to hear that their play had attractednotice; they felt braced up for the next contest, and went back to thefray in quite good spirits. 

"One wants to strike the happy medium between faint heart and overconfidence, " said Olga. 

"I prefer to strike the ball!" laughed Gwen. 

There was no doubt that Rodenhurst was this year increasing itsreputation by leaps and bounds. Instead of falling out among the earlysets it had kept steadily on, and spectators began to speak of it aslikely to carry off the prize. Radcaster had also done excellently, sowhen it came to a final struggle between those two rivals, theexcitement of their respective adherents knew no bounds. TheRodenhurst girls could hardly keep still, and each held a handkerchiefready to wave in case of victory. That it would be a tremendousbattle Gwen and Olga knew only too well. The Radcaster champions werethe same girls who had won the tournament the year before, and manypeople deemed them invincible. They seemed inclined to hold thatopinion themselves, for they glanced at their opponents with a rathersuperior and almost pitying smile. That look put Gwen on her mettle. "They shan't have it this time!" she murmured grimly as she took herplace. Whether Gwen really excelled herself, or whether the Radcastergirls were a little tired or too secure of victory was a debatablepoint, but at the end of a splendidly played set Rodenhurst stood asthe winner. The two successful champions turned to each other almostincredulously. The shield was theirs! A perfect storm of applause camefrom the crowd. The Rodenhurst girls were beside themselves with joy, and clapped and waved and hurrahed till they were hoarse. 

"Well done! This is indeed a triumph!" said Miss Roscoe, who hurriedup to congratulate her victorious pair, looking as pleased as any ofher pupils. This afternoon's success would wipe away the formerreproach of the school, and lift it to a point of importance in thetennis league. 

"The shield will hang in the lecture hall!" rejoiced Bessie Manners. "It will be sent to us as soon as our name is engraved upon it. "

"I wish we could erase Radcaster!" said Gwen. 

"Oh! I like to see the names of the other schools upon it. It gives meall the more joy of present possession. "

"Gwen, you were just splendid!" declared Olga. "How you managed it Ican't imagine, but you seemed to jump at the balls and catch them. "

"I'm a spread-eagle player, I know; not nearly so graceful as you, "laughed Gwen. "Well, I've 'done my possible', as the French say. Now Ishall have to drop tennis and grind, for Miss Douglas has beengrumbling most horribly, and declares she'd have stopped my beingchampion if she'd known how my prep. Was going to suffer. It's beenLatin and maths. Versus tennis this last week. "

"She'll forgive you when she sees the shield!" chuckled BessieManners. 

CHAPTER XXIII

Gwen to the Rescue

It was now the middle of June, and the weather, even at Skelwick, washot and enervating. There was thunder about, and frequent rain. It wastrying for everybody. The constant heavy showers necessitated carryingmackintoshes to school, as if it were winter; the lawn was too wet andsopping for tennis, and most outdoor plans had to be abandoned. Theboys, overflowing with high spirits, chafed at confinement to thehouse, and their noise was a serious impediment to Gwen, whose eveningpreparation was a matter of vital importance at present. It wasimpossible to get out of earshot in the little Parsonage, and thoughshe retired to her bedroom and stuffed her fingers in her ears, Latintranslation and mathematical problems were sadly disturbed by the dinbelow. Gwen was working tremendously hard just now. Miss Roscoe hadnot yet announced the names of those who were to take the SeniorOxford. It was rather a curious notion of hers to preserve silence onthe subject, for she was obliged to send in the entry forms for hercandidates early in May, and must therefore already have made herdecision. Her motive was to spur on the whole of the Fifth to equaleffort. Her past experience had shown her that when a few top girlsonly were taking an examination, the rest of the Form was apt to slackand lose interest, and she considered there were several who, thoughnot actually candidates, would benefit by the special preparation, andwould make efforts on the chance of having been selected. Gwen didnot, of course, know whether her name was on Miss Roscoe's privatelist, but she secretly cherished the possibility. She knew her workhad improved; indeed that it was equal to that of anyone in the Fifth. There was no age limit for the Senior Oxford, and though she was theyoungest in her Form, her fifteenth birthday would fall on the firstday of the examination. Gwen was very ambitious; to be chosen as acandidate, and to pass with distinction, seemed a goal worth all thehard work of the school year. It brought visions of other and higherexaminations in years to come; honours and scholarships which werewaiting for those who had the pluck and the ability to win them, arosy dream of college and university success on a distant horizon. 

"I'm going to be Gwen Gascoyne, B. A. , somehow before I've finished, "she thought. "I've made up my mind to that!"

It was just at this crisis that Beatrice caught a severe chill. She--the wisest at health precautions where others were concerned--dida series of exceedingly rash and foolish things, with the result thatshe was obliged most reluctantly to give in, and allow Dr. Chambers tobe sent for. Though Beatrice tried to make light of her own illness, the doctor took a different view of the case, and greatly to herconsternation ordered her promptly to bed. 

"I can't stop in bed! It's impossible!" she protested indignantly. "What's to become of the household? Nellie can't do everything;besides, she's no head, and she'd forget to feed the chickens, orshe'd burn the bread, and let Martin tumble down the well if nobodywas there to look after her. "

"Then one of your sisters must stop at home, for you've got to stay inbed!" commanded Dr. Chambers. "Yes, I insist, and if you won't obeyme, I shall send for a hospital nurse to make you!"

At this awful threat Beatrice subsided into unwilling obedience, onlystipulating that her enforced retirement should be as brief aspossible, and that she might be allowed to direct domestic affairsfrom her bedroom. 

"I suppose I can't stop you worrying over the household, but you'renot to stir out of bed till I give you permission, and I'll probablykeep you there for a fortnight. The rest will do you all the good inthe world, " replied the doctor. "As for managing without you, they'lljust have to manage!"

Dr. Chambers's autocratic orders were, of course, to be followed tothe letter, everybody realized that; the only difficulty was how itwas going to be done. The family held an immediate conclave on thesubject in the invalid's room. 

"I suppose I shall have to stay at home, " said Winnie, "though Ihardly dare suggest it to Miss Roscoe. With Miss Roberts still away, it makes things doubly difficult. I'm already taking four extraclasses, and who's to teach those, and my own as well? It's enough todisorganize the school. "

"Miss Roscoe would be furious if you stopped away!" said Gwen. "Idon't see how you can. "

"I'll write to Cousin Edith, and ask if she can help us, " suggestedMr. Gascoyne. 

"No, don't!" groaned Beatrice. "If Cousin Edith comes, I shall getstraight out of bed, in spite of Dr. Chambers. I warn you I will! Sheand I don't get on. "

Nobody was anxious for Cousin Edith's presence, so the suggestiondropped. 

"A charwoman wouldn't meet the want, " sighed Winnie. "It must besomebody who knows all the ropes of the household, or she'd be no use. Lesbia's too young; but how about Gwen? She ought to be able tomanage. "

Gwen did not wait to hear Beatrice's reply, but bolted straightway toher own bedroom. The proposal was as unwelcome as it was unexpected. To stop at home now, for a whole fortnight, just when every moment atschool was of such great importance! Why, such a proceeding mightwreck every chance she had for the exam. ! Of course she was not surewhether she was really a candidate, but she had a shrewd suspicionthat she was one of the selected number. She wished Miss Roscoe hadopenly given out the names, then she would have known exactly what todo in the circumstances. Could anything be more exasperating? It wasimpracticable for Winnie to fill the breach; with one teacher short, Miss Roscoe could not possibly spare her, especially at such a busytime as the end of the term. Gwen realized that perfectly. Lesbia--little, childish Lesbia--would be about as much use as Stumpsor Basil--why, she would be playing with Martin in the orchard whilethe fowls went hungry and Nellie burnt the bread. As for Cousin Edith, she was not a favourite with the Gascoynes, and the fact of herpresence would be hardly conducive to the invalid's recovery. 

"I verily believe Bee would get up if she knew Cousin Edith werepoking about downstairs, " thought Gwen. "I know I ought to stay--but Ican't, I can't! It means so much to pass that exam. It would be horridto stop at home, too, with Bee in bed directing everything. If shewere going away, and would leave me to it, I shouldn't mind. It's notthe work I'm dreading. But I know Bee only too well. She'll ring abell and have me up to her room every five minutes to ask how thingsare getting on, and what I've done and what I haven't done, and she'llworry, worry, worry, and scold, scold, scold the whole time. There'llbe no credit in my slaving, not the least. No, I don't think it can beexpected from me. It's too hard. "

Gwen made the last remark aloud, and she repeated it againemphatically, because she just happened to catch sight of the New Yearmotto that hung over her dressing table. 

 "Oh do not pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger men. Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers. Pray for powers equal to your tasks. Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle. But you shall be a miracle. Every day you shall wonder at yourself, at the richness of life which has come to you by the grace of God. "

"I thought it meant school work, " she said to herself. "But after allI suppose it means home work as well, or any kind of work that comesuppermost. I wonder if I could. Look here, Gwen Gascoyne, it's rathera big sacrifice, but you've got to make it for once. With fourdaughters, Dad has a right to expect somebody to keep the housecomfortable, and just at this critical moment you're the only oneavailable. It's hard, but it'll have to be. Your little ambition, mydear, must take a back seat for the present, while you go and 'washdishes and feed the swine'. You'd better make the plunge and get itover!"

Father and Winnie had adjourned to the garden, so Gwen hurrieddownstairs before she repented her resolution. 

"Dad! I believe I can manage, if Bee will let me try, " she blurtedout, for Gwen generally did things abruptly. 

Winnie drew a sigh of relief. 

"I believe you could, too, " she said hastily, "and I've been tellingBeatrice so. Miss Roscoe will think I'm playing her a very nasty trickif I stop away. She'd never forgive me. You're strong, Gwen, and youknow all about the hens and the pigs, and you can keep an eye onNellie. "

"Yes, try, childie. It will be a good practice for you--and there'snobody else, " agreed Father. 

Thus it came about that Gwen entered upon an entirely new experience. She had, of course, helped in the house before, but only underBeatrice's personal supervision; it was quite a different matter tohave to take the responsibility of the whole establishment. 

"Bother your sister as little as you can, I want her to have acomplete rest, " said Dr. Chambers. "You mustn't let her worry aboutwhat's going on downstairs. "

It was easy enough for the doctor to give orders, thought Gwen, but adifficult matter to carry them out. She was determined, however, to doher best, and she made a most heroic effort to be patient with theinvalid. The fact was that poor Beatrice, who never spared herself, was overworked, and the hot, damp weather had affected her nerves. Dr. Chambers knew his patient when he prescribed a fortnight in bed, andwas well aware that it was the only way of persuading her to take therest she needed. At first Gwen's anticipations of a trying time wereliterally fulfilled. Beatrice's bell was ringing constantly, and shehad to keep running up and down stairs and listening to endless andminute directions, and to answer a perfect catechism of questions asto how affairs were progressing in the kitchen. Nellie also was in agrumpy mood, and difficult to conciliate. She did not like havinginstructions sent to her through Gwen, and showed her resentment byclattering about the kitchen and banging doors. It required more tactthan Gwen had ever made use of in her life before to keep the peace. Then Martin was no slight anxiety, for the little scamp thought hecould take advantage of Beatrice's absence to get into as muchmischief as a magpie, and Gwen hardly dared trust him five minutes outof her sight. Between Martin, household tasks, and certain parishduties which could not be omitted, there was plenty to be done, andthe days seemed full from morning till night. 

Gwen had never before realized how very much lay in Beatrice's hands, and she began slowly to appreciate how heavy a burden her sistercarried year in and year out, with scarcely ever a holiday to relievethe tension. 

"It's far worse than any amount of lessons, " she thought. "Going backto school will be quite a holiday after this. "

One resolve Gwen had made, and stuck to with grim determination--tospend a certain time every day over mathematics and one or two othersubjects in which she feared she was weak. She got Lesbia to bring herbooks from school, and every night, long after the latter was asleep, she would sit up in their joint bedroom studying. It was impossible tosnatch five minutes during the day, but when the house was still andquiet it was easier to concentrate her thoughts, and she was surprisedsometimes what progress she was able to make. Night after night sheheard the clock strike twelve before she put out her lamp, and onceeven the early midsummer dawn stole in and caught her unawares. Noneof the family knew that she sat up working so late, or probably Fatherwould have forbidden it, for it was certainly burning the candle atboth ends. It was very difficult to rise at six o'clock and help toprepare breakfast when she seemed only to have had a few hours' sleep, and it was often a great temptation to ignore the alarum and turnover on her pillow. But having accepted the household drudgery, Gwenhad enough grit to carry out her duties thoroughly, however unwelcomesome of them might be, and to secure breakfast in time was a cardinalvirtue at the Parsonage. To her credit she never once let the othersstart late for school, or forgot to place their packets of lunchready, and Beatrice herself could not have been more solicitous aboutdrying wet boots and stockings. 

"You're getting quite grandmotherly, Gwen, " laughed Basil. "You neverused to care about damp feet before. You're nearly as big a fusser asBee. You made my cricket flannels look no end, though. I will say thatfor you. "

"I like Gwen's housekeeping, she puts so much jam in the tarts!"remarked Giles approvingly. 

"Gwen lets me feed the chickens my own self, " said Martin with asatisfied chuckle. "And she mended my kite, too. "

"I wish you'd mend my blue print dress, Gwen, " said Lesbia. "I tore itagain at school yesterday. That last darn of yours was uncommonlyneat. "

"Are they really getting to appreciate me more now I do more forthem?" Gwen asked herself. "I never thought they cared an atom aboutme before. I was always the odd one at home. It's hard work, and afearful trouble to do all those extra things, but oh!--it is nice tofeel one's wanted. "

At the end of a fortnight Beatrice was decidedly better, but Dr. Chambers was still unwilling to allow her to come downstairs. 

"Best complete the cure while we're about it, and take another week inyour room, " he decreed. "If you begin to bustle round the house toosoon, it may undo all the good of this enforced rest. 

"I feel such a slacker, " groaned the invalid. 

After the doctor had gone the family held another conference inBeatrice's room. 

"I had a letter from Cousin Edith this morning, " said Mr. Gascoyne. "She offers to come and take full charge, both of you and thehousehold. What do you think, Bee? Had we better let her come for awhile, just until you're fit to be about again?"

"It isn't worth it for a week--and I mean to be down then, doctor orno doctor!" announced Beatrice, with characteristic firmness. "In themeantime I'd rather have Gwen than anybody, if she doesn't mindstaying at home a few days longer. She's a kind little nurse, andshe's kept things going wonderfully. I'd never have believed she'dmanage so well. "

Gwen's eyes filled with tears. Beatrice, of all people in the world, to yield her so high a tribute of praise! Beatrice, who had been socaptious and hard to please as she lay in bed giving elaboratedirections, and whose fidgety ways had needed so much patience!

"I'm glad if I've been of any use, " she faltered. 

"Use! You've been a jewel. I don't know whatever we should have donewithout you, " said Beatrice, catching Gwen's hand, and squeezing ithard. "Can you spare another week as general slavey? Miss Roscoe wouldquite understand. "

"I'll do anything you like, Bee, " said Gwen, returning the squeeze. 

CHAPTER XXIV

The Senior Oxford

Gwen went back to school after three weeks' absence, fearing thatevery chance of the Senior Oxford must have faded into thin air. Shehad worked as well as she could at home, but it had not been the sameas studying with a mistress, and she felt her deficiencies painfully. 

"There's no time to make things up now, either, " she thought. "Theexam. Begins on the sixteenth, and that's actually next Monday. Ohdear! If only I were better up in maths! I know the chemistry'll stumpme too. That's to say if I'm even allowed to go in at all!"

On this last point her doubts were soon dispelled. At eleven o'clockshe received a summons to the headmistress's study. 

"Well, Gwen, " said Miss Roscoe. "It has been very unfortunate that youwere obliged to stay away so long, but you must do your best, notwithstanding. I entered your name as a candidate for the SeniorOxford, so you will, of course, take the examination. Miss Trent hasarranged to give you some extra coaching in the dinner hour every daythis week, and I think you ought to be able at least to secure a pass. You're fairly certain all round. "

"Except in maths. , " said Gwen. 

"Well, you must give all the time you can spare to that. But don'toverdo the cramming. It's sometimes a fatal mistake to work early andlate till your brain's utterly exhausted. I did that once myself andmissed a scholarship through it. Take an hour at tennis every eveningbefore you go to bed. Exercise is an absolute necessity if you're tobe in form for next week. You're looking pale, and you mustn't breakdown before Monday. Tell your father to buy you a tonic. "

Miss Roscoe spoke kindly, more sympathetically indeed than Gwen everremembered to have heard her before. She had a wide experience withgirls, and could estimate their capacities to a nicety. She had chosenher candidates carefully, and would ensure that they were sent in wellprepared. So far she had had few failures in public examinations, andevery pass brought extra credit to the school. 

Five members of the Form were to take the Senior Oxford; ElspethFrazer, Edith Arnold, Louise Mawson, and Betty Brierly, being theother four, all of them considerably older than Gwen. 

"We call you the five victims!" said Charlotte Perry. "I'm glad I'mout of it. I sang a jubilee last week when Miss Roscoe read the listand my name wasn't on it. "

"There were eight girls sent in last year, " said Hilda Browne. 

"Yes, and two failed--Majorie Stevens and Daisy Wilson. I don't thinkMiss Roscoe has forgiven them yet. "

"Oh, dear! I'm afraid she'll be very down on me then, " wailed Gwen. "I'm a doubtful quantity!"

"You? Oh, you'll be all right! She'd never let you try if youweren't--trust her!" said Charlotte Perry, and the rest agreed. 

In spite of her schoolmates' assurances Gwen did not feel at allcertain of success, and it was in very blue spirits and a state ofwoeful apprehension that she betook herself on the fateful sixteenthof July to the Stedburgh Town Hall, which was the local centre for theexamination. It was her fifteenth birthday, and it seemed a funny wayof celebrating the day. She had been so agitated that morning that shehad scarcely been able to realize her presents, except the fountainpen which Father and Beatrice and Winnie had clubbed together to giveher, and which she had brought with her to the exam. Room. 

At her first paper, however, she cheered up a little. It was easierthan she had expected, and though one or two questions were beyondher, the rest were well within her capacity. Her new pen flew over thesheets of foolscap, and if she was too nervous to do herself fulljustice she at least acquitted herself with credit. The time-tableonly allowed an hour between one and two o'clock for lunch, which wasprovided for the candidates in a room at the Town Hall. Gwen anxiouslycompared notes with Elspeth, Edith, Louise, and Betty, as they hastilydemolished plates of beef sandwiches and drank tumblers of lemonade. On the whole she had done as well or even better than they, and shebegan to cherish hopes. 

As the week went on, Gwen, though not daring to be too sanguine, could not help feeling that her papers had reached a fair standardeven in her weakest subjects. She had grown so accustomed to theexamination room that she was no longer nervous and was able toexpress the facts she knew at their best advantage. 

"There!" she said, when she had at last handed in her final sheets. "It's a toss-up whether I'm through or not. I expect it depends on thetemper of the examiner who reads my papers. I'll hope he'll get hisdinner before he tackles them!"

"Your writing's clear at any rate, " said Elspeth. "Mine's such ascrawl I'm afraid that will be against me. Aren't you thankful thething's over?"

"Thankful hardly expresses my state of bliss. "

"It's rather sickening to have school exams, next week, after allthis!" said Louise. 

"They'll seem a mere trifle compared with the Oxford!" declared Gwen. 

After the ordeal they had passed through in common the candidates wereon terms of good comradeship, and with Elspeth Frazer Gwen felt therewas a prospect of permanent friendship. 

The last days of the term passed rapidly away. To Gwen the great eventof the school year was over. Though she did her best at them, Rodenhurst examinations were a matter of quite minor importance. Shewelcomed the breaking-up with intense relief. After the strain of thepast few weeks the holidays seemed an imperative necessity. It wasdelightful to have a complete rest, to idle about in the garden or onthe shore, or take long invigorating walks on the moors. It would befive or six weeks before she could hear the result of the SeniorOxford, so she was obliged to endure the suspense as best she could. 

In the meantime something happened--something so very unexpected andextraordinary that for a time it almost put even her examinations inthe shade. It was Beatrice who told her the good news. Lately Beatricehad begun to treat Gwen as one of the grown-up members of thehousehold, and to include her in their discussions of family affairs. 

"It seems almost too wonderful to believe, " said Beatrice. "Old Mr. Sutton has resigned his incumbency of North Ditton, and do you knowthe living is to be divided, and Skelwick, Basingwold, Hethersedge, and Rigby are all to be one big new parish by themselves. And who's tobe Vicar, do you think?"

"Not Dad?" gasped Gwen incredulously. 

"Yes. It has been formally offered to him, and he's going to acceptit. Oh! and, Gwen, the funny part is, do you know, that queer oldgentleman you met upon the wold turns out to be Sir Benjamin Hazlett, the patron of the living. "

"He didn't look like a Sir Anything!" exclaimed Gwen. "He was theoddest, shabbiest, crankiest old fellow, and so inquisitive!"

"I hear he's very eccentric, and of course one sees now why he askedso many questions. He'd actually never been at Skelwick before, although he's the patron, and nobody here in the village knew him. Hetold the bishop you'd suggested dividing the parish!"

"I!" shrieked Gwen, "I wouldn't have dared to suggest such a thing. Ionly said it would be nice. "

"Well, you put it into his head, anyway. He said the idea had neveroccurred to him before, and he saw at once its extreme advisability. He talked it over with the bishop, and they both agreed it ought to bedone. I suppose he came to church that evening to hear Dad preach, andjudge for himself what he was capable of. "

"He evidently liked him. But who wouldn't?" returned Gwen. "Then Dadhas refused Rawtenbeck?"

"Yes; thank goodness we needn't go and live amongst chemical works andfactory chimneys! The Diocesan Society's going to build an extrabedroom on to the Parsonage. Isn't that lovely?"

"It will be the Vicarage now, if you please!" declared Gwen, rubbingher hands with satisfaction. 

That her father's hard work should be recognized and rewarded at lastwas indeed a triumph, and the thought that she had perhaps had anunconscious share in bringing this about added a special element ofjoy. 

"It was like entertaining an angel unawares!" she chuckled. "Thoughanybody less angelic-looking than poor old Sir Benjamin one couldn'timagine! I'm glad I took that solitary walk on the wold, Bee!"

"So am I, as it happens, though it's the exception that proves myrule. "

The appointment to the new parish was indeed an important event forMr. Gascoyne in more ways than one. It not only gave him a betterposition and larger opportunities of carrying on the work he hadbegun, but it meant also pecuniary benefit. The living of Skelwick wasto be worth treble his curate's stipend, and though he was anunworldly man, his children's future was a necessary consideration. Hewould not be opulent, but he would now at any rate be free from moneytroubles, and the family could carry out many precious schemes whichbefore had seemed mere dreams. The boys could be educated in course oftime at Stedburgh Grammar School, Lesbia could take music lessons, andGwen's visions of college might actually some day see fulfilment. Winnie could give up the teaching she hated and become housekeeper athome, that her elder sister might be free to take her training at agreat London hospital, for Beatrice's heart was still set on enteringthe nursing profession. 

"You'll see me a matron yet!" she announced. "I warn you that I'mambitious, and mean to get on!"

"I'll be a B. A. By then, and we'll shake hands over our mutualsuccess!" laughed Gwen. 

"Don't forget you promised to be a lady doctor and study at collegewith me!" put in Dick, who had become almost one of the family at theParsonage. 

"You'll have to look out then, or I'll get ahead of you!"

"You won't do that, madam! I'm going back to school next term, remember. "

Dick was fortunately quite strong again. The specialist who hadexamined him before declared he had outgrown his temporary delicacy, and even gave him permission to play football when the season began, as well as to recommence his work at Stedburgh. 

"I shall be sorry to lose my pupil, " said Mr. Gascoyne. "The childrenwill miss you here on Saturdays. "

"I'll see them all every day in the bus, " returned Dick cheerfully. 

As the holidays wore on and it grew nearer and nearer to the time whenshe might expect to hear the result of the Senior Oxford, Gwen waxedimpatient. The suspense was hard to bear, and seemed harder the longershe waited. 

"I want to be put out of my misery, " she declared. "If I've failed I'dlike to know and have done with it. "

"But you thought you'd done pretty well, " said Winnie. 

"How can I tell? Every day I think of something more that I left outin my papers, and it makes me less and less hopeful. I've borrowed oneof Dad's big pocket handkerchiefs all ready to weep into! I warn you Ishall cry gallons if I've not passed. "

Miss Roscoe had arranged that a telegram should be sent to each of thecandidates announcing the lists, and on the day when the news waslikely to arrive the Gascoyne family haunted the rampart on the wall, watching eagerly for the advent of the telegraph boy. It was Basil whospied him first, and Giles who got to the gate quickest to meet him, and Beatrice who tore open the yellow envelope and read the message tothe excited audience. 

"'First-class Honours, and Geographical Society's Silver Medal!'"

Gwen nearly dropped on the grass. 

[Illustration: "IT WAS BASIL WHO SPIED HIM FIRST"]

"Let me look at it!" she quavered. "Are you sure you haven't made amistake, Bee?"

"Here it is in black and white. Look at it yourself, then, yousceptic, and be convinced! I do congratulate you!"

"Hip, hip, hooray!" yelled the boys with such vigour that their shoutsaroused curiosity in the village, and several parishioners came toenquire the cause of the rejoicings. 

Gwen had known that the Royal Geographical Society offered two medals, one of silver and one of bronze, to the two Senior candidates who gavethe best answers to the geography papers, but in her wildest visionsshe had never contemplated winning one of them. To come out first inall England in geography seemed an honour almost above the flights ofambition. 

"Miss Roscoe will be so rejoiced!" said Winnie. "She always thoughtyou'd do well, Gwen. Why, you'll be a credit to the school. She'llboast about this silver medal for evermore. I expect it will go downin the prospectuses! You'll get coached up for a scholarship next, you'll see. "

"I still can't quite, quite believe it--it's too absolutely, perfectly, deliriously scrumpshus!" bleated Gwen hysterically. 

"Dad's big pocket handkerchief won't be wanted after all to dry yourtears, " laughed Lesbia. "Oh, there's Dad coming up the road now--goand meet him, Gwen, and tell him your own self!"

The next prize-giving at Rodenhurst was a more than usually specialoccasion, for not only had four girls matriculated, but five hadpassed the Senior Oxford, two of them in the Honours Division. Gwen'smedal was acknowledged the triumph of the school, and both pupils andmistresses spoke of her as likely to win more laurels in the future. 

"She's one of the best workers we have, " said Miss Roscoe to theMayor, who was acting chairman; "a very clever girl. I believe she hasa career before her. "

As Gwen went up to receive her prizes and certificate the girlsclapped and clapped till, not content even with the noise they weremaking, they broke into ringing cheers. Half-dizzy with emotion, Gwenreturned to her place--these were the very same schoolfellows who, only one short year ago, had allowed her to walk down the hall withouta sign of recognition or appreciation. From being the outcast of herForm she had risen to the height of popularity. 

"I always said, childie, that if you only bided your time and workedyour very hardest, the girls would be proud of you in the end!"declared Father when the celebrations were over and the Gascoynes hadreturned to the Parsonage. 

"Oh, it was ripping to hear them all clapping and cheering, Gwen! Andafter last year, too--it's like a miracle!" exclaimed Lesbiarapturously. 

"Yes, that's just what it is--a miracle, " said Gwen, thinking of themotto that hung on her bedroom wall. 

 * * * * *

BY ANGELA BRAZIL

 "Angela Brazil has proved her undoubted talent for writing a story of schoolgirls for other schoolgirls to read. "--Bookman. 

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The Luckiest Girl in the School. 

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The Jolliest Term on Record. 

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The Girls of St. Cyprian's: A Tale of School Life. 

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For the Sake of the School. 

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The Leader of the Lower School: A Tale of School Life. 

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A Pair of Schoolgirls: A Story of School-days. 

 "The story is so realistic that it should appeal to all girls. "--Outlook. 

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The Nicest Girl in the School. 

The Third Class at Miss Kaye's: A School Story. 

The Fortunes of Philippa: A School Story. 

LONDON: BLACKIE & SON, LTD. , 50 OLD BAILEY, E. C.