"It was open all the time," protested several unhappy voices.
"You didn't try it properly."
"We did," said other cross voices, and sulkily and stiffly they creaked down the hall to their longed-for beds.
The rising bell rang in about an hour's time; at least so it seemed to eight very sleepy girls. Pancakes and maple syrup, the favourite York Hill breakfast, brought them no solace; indeed, to the surprise of their friends, they refused them. Sally May, who demanded much sympathy, reported to the nurse after breakfast.
"I don't feel well, Miss Anderson, I don't really. I'm tired all over. I think if I had a little rest—" she added plaintively.
"Put out your tongue," said Miss Anderson cruelly. "Hm, blowing up for a bilious attack. Oh, yes, you can go to morning lessons, but report at the Infirmary this evening for a dose of calomel."
Poor Sally May! The thought of the horrid dose haunted her all day, and when evening came her punishment was indeed complete.
Judith, Nancy, and Josephine had separately and independently resolved by hook or by crook to escape the hated morning walk or "crocodile." A walk after their wakeful night seemed simply impossible and the weather was too bad for games. Many excuses were thought of and rejected, but eventually they presented themselves to the mistress-in-charge, a certain zealous Miss Martin.
"Too tired to go out, Nancy? Very well, early bed, of course"—and she chalked up Nancy's name with "Bed at eight-thirty." Judith and Josephine were treated in like manner; not that they minded very much, for bed at eight-thirty had a soothing sound. But Madam Retribution was not done with them yet.
For a week or more they had been expecting an invitation from Catherine to supper in her room. It was a regular first-term institution that a prefect should entertain her set of cubicles, and rumours of other suppers had already reached the ears of the crew of the "Jolly Susan." Judith, especially, had been looking forward to this treat. An evening in Catherine's room, what a delight!