Head of the Lower School

by Dorothea Moore

"Yes."

"Funny—that's to-day," John said. "Joey."

"Yes."

"I think you had better come over here; I'll ask Cousin Greta to send for you. Come to-day, I mean, and not wait for to-morrow."

"John? I can't to-day—it's the match."

"Well, I'll take you on to it in the car."

"It's frightfully nice of you—but, you see, I was going with Gabby and Noreen, my specialist friends."

"I'll ask Aunt Greta to ask the whole boiling of you to lunch then," John said, impatiently. "So long, Joey. I can't tell you any more till I know it myself. But you come along if you're sent for."

"But, John, I can't come to lunch, because I've promised to tidy the Lab," Joey began, and then stopped, because she had been rung off. She went in to breakfast, feeling very doubtful whether she wanted to go to lunch at Mote to-day, even with the company of Noreen and Gabrielle. It would be much more fun to go with the Team, and it was more than possible that Cousin Greta might not see the great importance of being in time for the match.