teachers. Marjorie's record
at Brackenfield had unfortunately been already marred by several
incidents which prejudiced her in the eyes of the mistresses. They had
been done innocently and in sheer thoughtlessness, but they gave a wrong
impression of her character. Miss Norton related that when she first met
Marjorie at Euston station she had found her speaking to a soldier, with
whom she had acknowledged that she had no acquaintance, and that she had
brought a novel to her dormitory in defiance of rules. Mrs. Morrison
remembered only too plainly that it was Marjorie who had asked the
aviator for his autograph on the beach at Whitecliffe, and had started
the ill-timed episode of snowballing the soldiers. Judging by these
signposts she considered her tendencies to be "fast".

"I can't have the atmosphere of the school spoilt," said Mrs. Morrison.
"Such an attitude is only too catching. Best to check it before it
spreads further."

"But I have always found Marjorie such a nice girl," urged Miss
Duckworth. "From my personal experience of her I could not have believed
her capable of unladylike conduct. She has always seemed to me very
unsophisticated and childish--certainly not 'fast'. Can there possibly
be any explanation of the matter?"

"I fear not--the case seems only too plain," sighed Mrs. Morrison. "I am
very loath to expel any girl, but----"

"May I speak to her before you take any active steps?" begged Miss
Duckworth. "I have a feeling that the matter may possibly admit of being
cleared up. It's worth trying."

No principal is ever anxious for the unpleasant task of writing to a
parent to request her to remove her daughter. Mrs. Morrison had nerved
herself to the unwelcome duty, but she was quite willing to defer it
until Miss Duckworth had instituted enquiries. She had an excellent
opinion of her mistress's sound common sense.

Marjorie spent a wretched day in the isolation ward. Sister Johnstone
plied her with magazines, but she had not the heart to read them, and
sat looking listlessly out of the window at the belt of laurels that
separated the field from the kitchen garden. She wondered when she was
to leave Brackenfield, if her mother would come to fetch her, or if she
would have to travel home by herself. It was after tea-time that Miss
Duckworth entered.

"I've come to relieve Sister for a little while," she announced, seating
herself by the fire.

Sister Johnstone took the hint, and, saying she wo