"I thought all along you had a hand in it," Nat declared that evening, as she and Monica were hard at work. "But you said the sticks weren't hidden anywhere."
"No more they were. No one who walked into the baths could fail to see them."
"I'm all the more convinced that I daren't let you out of my sight. You see what invariably happens when I do! The other girls in the Fifth don't know whether to be annoyed with you or not."
"Irene does," replied Monica. "She still doesn't like me at all." She critically surveyed the latest notice she was printing for the study wall with her head on one side and added happily: "Wait till I come out top. She'll dislike me still more then."
"Did you hear about Allison going to the prefects' meeting to help them?" asked Nat eagerly, and when Monica shook her head she related the incident, quoting Allison's words about not standing outside when things were going wrong, not for fifty scholarships. Nat spoke with a glowing face and eyes alight with hero-worship. "That's just like Allison. It's true, too. That's why we would do anything for her when she was Head Girl last year and worked so hard for the school; why we think so much of her now."
CHAPTER XI
THE TELEGRAM
Peace and harmony reigned supreme at St. Etheldreda's during the next few weeks, for the girls simply had no time to get into mischief, every minute of the day being fully occupied. Work, of course, came first, and the term examinations, which took place the second week in December, loomed appreciably nearer. Girls who had slacked at the beginning of the term decided that it behoved them to work harder if they did not wish to take home a poor report at Christmas. The Dramatic Society, with Glenda as its shining star—Glenda, who had set her heart on becoming a Silver Medallist that year—was busy preparing various scenes from Shakespeare which they hoped to perform on Speech Day. With the improvement in the weather, out-of-door pursuits were booming; groups of girls took long country walks, while games were in full swing.
There were no more quarrels between the netball and hockey clubs. The latter's hopes of gaining the shield were high, for should they win their next match they would be entitled to meet the victors in the other section—Fairhurst Priory, the present holders—in the Final.
On Friday morning—the day before the match—the postman was rather earlier than usual and Irene happened to be the only girl near the door to see him arrive, though usually he was accosted by an expectant crowd. She seized hold of the bundle of letters to take them into the hall, where they were spread on the table for their owners to claim. On the top of the bundle was a letter addressed to Miss M. Carr in extremely black, square handwriting, that set a chord of remembrance vibrating in Irene's mind. In a flash she recollected where she had seen it before. Here was another letter to Monica from the girl Lilian at Fairhurst Priory School.