The twins laughed in sympathy.
“Well, it’s comforting to think you don’t believe we’d make a hopeless mess of it,” Jo said. “We’ll try to believe it too, but it’s difficult. And the most difficult of all will be to make the School believe it!”
Helen slipped off the table and inserted the racquet into a crevice in the packing-case.
“Oh, the School won’t worry you much,” she said. “Don’t start off with thinking about all your problems at once; take each day’s work as it comes, and leave to-morrow’s to look after itself. Remember, you’re not going to be prefects all at once, either, so you’ve time to hatch out a good manner!”
“If ever I see Jo with a prefectorial manner I’ll cease to believe that she’s my twin!” uttered Jean.
“What about yourself?” demanded Jo.
“If I could roll the ridiculous pair of you out into one large prefect I believe I’d have an excellent one!” said Helen, laughing. “Stop worrying over six months hence, and help me pack my books; there’s an empty box in the corner by the fire-place. Oh, and remember, too, Ellen Webster will be Captain, and a jolly good captain she’ll be. Keep your eye on her, and pick up points.”
“Right-oh!” said the twins, falling upon the empty box and transporting it to the book-case. “What goes in first, Helen?”
“The fat ones—line the box with paper, though.”
“Rather. If we’d known about this prefect idea we’d have spent all this term watching you. I’d have followed you about with a note-book.”