They were dressing for supper in Blue Dorm, Joey, Barbara, Syb, and Noreen; and as usual they were dressing in a hurry.
"What sort of thing?" Joey demanded, trying to disentangle hooks from her hair.
"Something to show we're jolly pleased she's come back. Just think, she might have died of that loathly 'flu'; lots of people have."
"Shut it, you old ghoul," ordered Barbara; "she's all right again now, thank goodness!"
"And we ought to celebrate her all-rightness," Noreen said triumphantly.
"Violets?" suggested Joey.
"Silly cuckoo, how are we to get them?"
"What do you want, Noreen?" Syb asked impatiently.
"How about charades after supper—and ask her to come and see them?"
"Frightfully short time to think of anything decent," objected Syb; "besides, Miss Craigie won't want to leave her dear Miss Lambton, you bet."