Nat chuckled, and some of the other girls who were sitting around watching and who had overheard, joined in the laughter. Prudence Preston of the Fourth, and the third of the Preston sisters—the three were known at St. Etheldreda's as the "Milestones"—jumped eagerly to her feet. She was a very keen netball player and a dashing little centre. Her eldest sister Pam was the netball captain and goal defender, and both were always on the alert for new recruits for their side.
"Has the new girl decided which games club she is joining, Nat?" she inquired.
Nat shook her head. "She says she knows nothing about either game. But of course, she'll play hockey. Anyone with any sense knows it's the better game."
Prue fired up at once. "Not a bit of it! Netball is a far superior game."
Nat looked supremely incredulous. "How do you make that out? Netball is tame compared with hockey."
"Hockey makes you round-shouldered, so a famous doctor once said."
"Netball's a soft game," Nat countered, adding conclusively: "Look at Allison's black eye last year and the time when Madge Amhurst had a front tooth knocked out. Whoever heard of anyone getting a black eye or black-and-blue ankles at netball! Anyone can last through a thirty minutes' netball match, but you've got to be up to form to last to the end of seventy minutes' gruelling hockey."
Prudence brought up her reserves. "All the same, netball's a superior game. It's more hy-hygienic." She brought out the last word with a visible effort.
Nat's face assumed a perplexed expression. "More—what was the word you used?"
"Hy-hygienic."