"Well, somebody must be bottom, Miss St. Leger," remarked Frances Kent brightly. Francesca loudly and frequently proclaimed that she was not really interested in anything except art.
"True, Frances," replied Miss St. Leger, "but not always—nor in everything—nor so easily."
"Oh, but surely, Miss St. Leger," protested Duane in her tired voice, "it is not so bad as that."
Miss St. Leger smiled. "Perhaps I was exaggerating a little, for your own good. I want to see you girls rouse yourselves, and make up your minds that your house isn't going to take bottom place in everything. Let us look at a few facts fairly. Last year this house only carried off two prizes among the seniors, Frances first in drawing, and Hilary second in English. Neither did your juniors earn the number they could have done. You have plenty of intelligent juniors, if they would only make up their minds to try.
"Now look at sports. You are going to be bottom this year if you don't make a big effort this term. Are you going to win any cricket or tennis matches, or any of the events on Sports Day? As you are a long way behind the others at present, you will have to make a big effort to catch up."
"We are handicapped, Miss St. Leger," said Duane. "We are so few numerically."
"Yes, I know your house is smaller than Sheerston's or Prince's, but no smaller than Miss Green's, and they are making quite a plucky fight for scholastic honours and the House Sports Shield."
"I did not quite mean the number of girls in the house, Miss St. Leger," the head prefect defended herself. "I was referring to the number of seniors. After all, it is the seniors who form the backbone of the house teams. There are only seven of us; Sheerston's, for example, have over twenty."
"True again. Of course you have been unfortunate in losing three senior girls in the middle of the school year—a most unusual occurrence. That is why I put the only new senior girl this term in your house. But it is quality, as well as quantity, that counts." She looked at the listening girls, and a smile flashed over her face, smoothing out its lines and wrinkles. "You were studying Henry V last term in the Upper Fifth, weren't you, girls? Accept his point of view, then—the fewer fighters, the greater share of glory," and with a few more parting words of encouragement, she dismissed them.
Kitty found the rest of that day one whirl of "settling down." First of all, with half a dozen other new girls, all younger, she was put through a searching oral examination by Miss Sheerston, in order to be "placed." Kitty, whose nerves hindered her, acquitted herself more creditably than she had hoped.