"No," replied the child, fixing her bright eyes on the tall figure of the head prefect and clenching her little hands. "Only—only to tell you that I think you're simply hateful."
"And why, pray, this flattering opinion of me?" inquired Duane lazily, with a smile.
"Oh, you can laugh," said Erica, stamping her foot angrily. "But I think you were simply horrid to Peggy this afternoon and I hate you for it. I hope you'll have something nasty happen to you some day, and then p'r'aps you'll be sorry you've been so nasty to other people."
"Peggy will get over it all right in a day or two. She'll be quite a nice girl in a couple of years, when she's rubbed off the edges. Don't worry your head over her—or me either. Go along and play with your dolls."
"Dolls!" said Erica, scornfully. "I don't play with dolls now. I'm much too big."
Duane looked down at her with a sudden twinkle in her eyes. "You're not very big though. But I do believe you're the prettiest little kid in the school."
She stooped suddenly, caught the child impulsively in her arms and kissed her. Erica indignantly struggled free and ran off down the passage as hard as she could. Ten minutes later, Duane, with wrinkled brows, was plunged deep in a last skim through a chapter on chlorine, Peggy and such minor disturbances completely forgotten.
The examination opened with two written papers on the first day. The second day was devoted to the more important half of the exam, the practical work. The laboratory was given over entirely to the use of the candidates; balances had been carefully cleaned and adjusted, as all knew that accurate results depended very largely upon accurate weighing and measuring; everything else that would be required had been put in order.
Just after half-past twelve the candidates came trooping out in a body, Miss Vacher, looking intensely important, bringing up the rear and locking the door. They were met in the hall by a large crowd of girls who were eager to know what they had been doing, but inquiries for details only resulted in the victims walking off arm-in-arm with their own particular chums.
"Oh, don't ask any more questions," begged Eileen. "Give us a rest till we go back to it this afternoon. Yes, Gwen, we're working three at a bench. I'm at the one just inside the door, in the middle, with Salome on my right and Duane on my left. In good company, you see. No, we're only allowed to speak to Miss Vacher."