ast word. Marjorie breathed a sigh of rapture, fastened the
pages together with a clip, and took them downstairs to Miss Norton's
study.

"You're an absolute trump, old girl!" she said to Dona.

The latter, meantime, had run downstairs and removed the ladder back to
where she had found it, so that no trace of her little adventure should
be left behind. The two girls hurried off to the playing-field, but took
care not to approach together, in case of awakening suspicions.

Everybody's attention was so concentrated on the match that Marjorie
slipped into a crowd of Intermediates unnoticed by mistresses. She was
in time for part of the game, and keenly enjoyed watching a brilliant
run by Daisy Edwards, and a terrific tussle on the back line resulting
in a splendid shot by Hilda Alworthy. When the whistle blew for time the
score stood six goals to three, Brackenfield leading, and Marjorie
joined with enthusiasm in the cheers. She loitered a little in the
field, and came back among the last. Miss Norton, who was standing in
the hall, looked at her keenly as she entered St. Elgiva's, but the
teacher had just found the essay "Of Empire" laid on her desk, and,
turning it over, had marked it correct. If she had any suspicions she
did not voice them, but allowed the matter to pass.

CHAPTER VII

Dormitory No. 9

After the sad fiasco recorded in the last chapter, Marjorie's interest
in autographs languished. She took up photography instead, and bartered
a quite nice little collection of foreign stamps with one of the Seniors
in exchange for a second-hand Kodak. Of course, it was much too late in
the year for snapshots, but she managed to get a few time exposures on
bright days, and enjoyed herself afterwards in the developing-room. She
wanted to make a series of views of the school and send them to her
father and to her brothers, for she knew how much they appreciated such
things at the front. In his last letter to her, Daddy had said: "I am
glad you and Dona are happy at Brackenfield, and wish I could picture
you there. I expect it is something like a boys' school. Tell me about
your doings. I love to have your letters, even though I may not have
time to answer them."

Daddy's letters were generally of the round-robin description, and were
handed on from one member to another of the family, but this had been
specially written to Marjorie and addressed to Brackenfield, so it was a
great treasure. She determined to