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work for herself, but her marks will also count for her form, and if she slacks, and so pulls down the standard, I hope her companions will give her as bad a time as they do to a ‘butterfingers’ at cricket, and that’s saying something!”

The idea of each form constituting a club appealed to the school. It was far more interesting to be “Amazons” or “Cuckoos” than merely Vb or IIIb, and as awards were to be according to averages, it was thrilling to feel that girls of twelve could wrest away the silver cup from the hands of the very prefects themselves.

“It makes it just like playing a game!” declared Ida Brooke.

“Yes, a sort of tug-of-war when everybody’s got to pull, and mustn’t let go!” added Cissie Barnes, “Do you remember playing ‘Oranges and Lemons’ once with the Sixth? We all held on to each others’ waists like grim death, and Janie Potter gave way and broke their chain, so we won!”

“We’ll beat them again, too! I’d like to see that cup on our mantelpiece!”

“The Pioneers,” otherwise Va, were as anxious as any of the other forms to carry off laurels. Even Fil, much under protest, really made quite an effort to work.

“You ought to help me with my exercises, though, Ingred,” she wheedled. “Remember, it’s for the benefit of the form. If you let me make mistakes, well⁠—it’s the form that will suffer. You can’t call it my fault, it’s on your own head. You know as well as I do that I simply can’t spell, and it takes me hours to hunt up words in the dictionary. I’m looking for ‘phenomenon’ now.”

“You certainly won’t find it in the F’s,” laughed Ingred. “What an infant in arms you are! Here, then, go ahead, and I’ll act as dictionary. You’ve only written half a page yet. You’ll be a week of Sundays at this rate.”

“And I haven’t touched my Latin or French!” sighed Fil dismally. “I wish I could go to a school where there isn’t any homework, and that somebody would invent a typewriter that would just spell the words ready-made when you press a button.”

“There’s a fortune waiting for the man who does!” agreed Ingred. “ ‘The Royal-Road-to-Learning Typewriter: spells of itself.’ It would sell by the million, I should think.”

Ingred washed her hands, plaited her hair, and put on her best brooch and her new bangle to attend the first meeting of the School Parliament. The function was held in the Sixth Form room, which she thought slightly unfair, for the prefects, being on their own ground, felt a distinct advantage, and acted as hostesses. There were four of them, so with the games captain they made a party of five from the Sixth, as opposed to six representatives of lower forms, a quite undue proportion in the opinion of the younger girls. Whatever successes the intermediates might win later on, “The True Blues” had carried all before them so far, and had won the cup by an average at least a dozen marks in advance of “The Mermaids,” who came second. The trophy stood on their mantelpiece, and they had brought an ornamental glazed tile on which to place it, as if they meant it to stay there.

On the whole they received the other wardens very graciously, and gave them opportunities to speak and air their views. Questions such as the due apportioning of the asphalt tennis-courts, basketball and hockey fixtures, and various school societies were discussed, and the general business of the term got under way.

“It helps things to be able to talk it over and know what you all think,” said Lispeth. “We’re making so many changes with coming into the new building, that it’s almost like an entirely fresh start. Miss Burd wants us to get up a sort of Reconstruction Society in the school. She hasn’t quite planned it out yet, but she told me a little about it, and I think it’s ever so nice. As soon as it’s quite fixed up, I’m going to call a general meeting, and explain it to everybody. I expect that will be next Wednesday. Will you give me power to do this on my own, or must I call a special committee on Monday to discuss it first, before I put it to the school?”

“It’s my music lesson on Monday, I couldn’t come,” demurred Ingred.

“And I have to go to the dentist immediately after four,” chimed in Alys Horner, the warden of “The Amazons.”

“If Miss Burd has arranged it, I suppose it’s all serene,” said Mabel Hughes, of “The Old Brigade.”

“You’ll like it, I know. I’d explain now, only I haven’t got any of the papers, and besides, it would take such a long time, and it’s rather late, and I want to be getting home. Anyway, I hope we shall all take it up hot and strong. Be sure to keep Wednesday free, though I’m going to ask Miss Burd to let us have the meeting in school hours if possible, then we’re absolutely sure of everybody.”

“Right you are!” agreed the wardens, separating in a rather unparliamentary fashion to admire a vinaigrette, scented with heliotrope, which Althea took from her pocket and handed round for appreciative sniffs.

All the girls felt that Lispeth Scott was to be trusted. She was a worthy leader for the new order of things. She was a tall, stout, fair girl of almost eighteen, and rather grownup for her age. She was the youngest member of a large family who had made enormous exertions during the war, and, with sisters who had nursed in Serbia, driven motor-ambulances in France, served in canteens, in Y.M.C.A. huts, and worked at munitions, she had excellent examples of what it is possible to do for one’s country. She was a decided favorite in the College, being athletic as well as clever, and of a very jolly merry temperament with a vein of great earnestness. Though the girls sometimes

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