"Marjorie is a pagan," laughed Rose Butler. "She bows down to many idols."
"I should call Winifrede a more desirable goddess than Chrissie," added Irene.
"Go on, tease me as much as you like!" declared Marjorie. "You're only jealous."
"Jealous! Jealous of Chrissie Lang! Great Minerva!" ejaculated Irene eloquently.
It was about two days after this that Marjorie, passing down the corridor from Dormitory No. 9, came suddenly upon Chrissie issuing out of Miss Norton's bedroom. Marjorie stopped in supreme amazement. Mistresses' rooms were sacred at Brackenfield, unless by special invitation. Miss Norton was not disposed to intimacy, and it was not in the knowledge of St. Elgiva's that she had admitted any girl into her private sanctum.
"Did Norty send for you there?" questioned Marjorie in a whisper.
"Sh, sh!" replied Chrissie. "Come back with me into the dormitory."
She drew her friend inside her cubicle, looked round the room to see that they were alone, then patted her pocket and smiled.
"I've got them!" she triumphed.
"Got what?"