On Sunday evening after tea, Gerry, who had put in an attendance at both the morning services and had so secured exemption from the evening service at St. Peter's, went to the library to find a book. Having procured one which promised to be interesting, she returned to the Lower Fifth sitting-room, and finding it empty, curled herself up on the hearthrug in front of the fire, and prepared for a happy if somewhat solitary evening. She had not been established there very long, however, before the door opened and Jack came into the room.
She dropped down beside Gerry on the hearth-rug and peered over her shoulder at the book.
"What are you reading?" she asked. "Anything interesting? Do you want to read very badly, or will you mind if we put out the light? Nita's coming in directly, and we'd arranged to have a cosy confab in the firelight. All the others are going to the organ recital, and we thought it would be a splendid opportunity to have a nice quiet evening all to ourselves."
"Is there an organ recital?" said Gerry. "I didn't know."
"Yes, there's been a notice up about it on the notice-board all the week. You are a blind old bat, Gerry, always up in the clouds. I don't believe you know half that goes on in the school. Miss Martyn's giving one in the Chapel this evening, but you needn't go to it unless you want—it's optional. Stay here and have a jolly evening with Nita and me. Here comes Nita."
The door opened at that moment, and Nita came quickly into the room.
"Hullo, here you are! I've got them all right——" she began, then stopped short at the sight of Gerry. In the dim light—Jack had switched off the overhead lamps, and the room was only lighted now by the glow from the fire—she had not seen her quite at first. "Oh, it's you, is it?" she said, somewhat abruptly. "I thought you'd gone to the organ recital."
Jack grinned at Nita's look of dismay and turned to Gerry with a chuckle of amusement.
"It's all right—don't take any notice of Nita. She doesn't really mean to be rude—it's just her way. Don't stand there looking like a stuffed owl, Nita. Gerry won't split. Will you, Gerry?"
"Split? Split on what?" asked Gerry, looking from one girl to the other in bewilderment.