"I don't see why we should," from Duane.
"But you don't really think we should stand the slightest chance against the school eleven?" protested Bertha.
"Oh, come, Bertha," remonstrated Duane, "you and Kitty, of all people, to be so faint-hearted over a hockey match when both of you are practically certain of getting your hockey colours before the end of the season!"
"But three can't beat eleven."
"I'm not proposing they should. Leave it to me to get up an eleven. This house has been so used to holding humble opinions about itself that it can't get out of the habit. You forget one or two things: that there are sixteen seniors now, where last year there were only six; as that quite half of the old school eleven left last term and there will have to be a big proportion of new colours in it. I will guarantee to get quite a respectable line of forwards from our Lower Fifth, if we older ones can manage the defence."
"And supposing they refuse to accept our challenge, as being beneath their dignity?" said Sonia.
"They won't do that. We should be able to say they were afraid to accept it. A challenge is a challenge."
Silence, while everybody looked at each other. "Well, what about it?" asked Duane. "Will you do it or not, if the Lower Fifth are willing?"
Kitty was the first to respond.
"I'm on," she said, impulsively. "Though I believe we haven't the slightest chance of winning. All the same, the idea's a gorgeous one and for pure cheek takes the biscuit. I wish I'd thought of it myself."