"It's a pity Hilary is so delicate, and of course France would be hopeless as head prefect. I suppose it'll be Duane."
"Yes. She's been chosen already."
"The best of the three," remarked Eileen, "and rather clever in her way, I should think. But a bit of a slacker, isn't she?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so. But she's got her hockey colour. That's always a help."
"Rather," put in Paddy. "And I remember her at tennis last year. If she had bucked up a bit she might have got her tennis colour as well. She could bat too, in cricket. Only she's so beastly erratic."
"That's it," agreed Salome, "you can't depend on her. She's a queer sort."
"Anyway, Carslake's can't come down any lower," said Eileen philosophically. "That'll be one comfort to her."
Then the conversation turned on other subjects, and a few minutes later the train began to draw up.
"Easthampton!" cried Paddy, who thought she had been silent long enough. "Tumble out, everybody. I'll look out for the school truck. All light luggage is here, being only Easter vac.—except Kitty's, of course."
Eileen, as a prefect, took the new girl under her wing.