hat Hilton House
had been a mere kindergarten in comparison with the big busy world in
which she now moved, and that all her standards required readjusting.
Instead of being an elder pupil, with a considerable voice in the
arrangement of affairs, she was now only an Intermediate, under the
absolute authority of Seniors, a unit in a large army of girls, and,
except from her own point of view, of no very great importance. If she
wished to make any reputation for herself her claims must rest upon
whether or not she could prove herself an asset to the school, either by
obtaining a high place in her form, or winning distinction in the
playing-fields, or among the various guilds and societies. Marjorie was
decidedly ambitious. She felt that she would like to gain honours and to
have her name recorded in the school magazine. Dazzling dreams danced
before her of tennis or cricket colours, of solos in concerts, or
leading parts in dramatic recitals, of heading examination lists,
and--who knew?--of a possible prefectship some time in the far future.
Meanwhile, if she wished to attain to any of these desirable objects,
Work, with a capital W, must be her motto. She had been placed in IVa,
and, though most of the subjects were within her powers, it needed all
the concentration of which she was capable to keep even a moderate
position in the weekly lists. Miss Duckworth, her form mistress, had no
tolerance for slackers. She was a breezy, cheery, interesting
personality, an inspiring teacher, and excellent at games, taking a
prominent part in all matches or tournaments "Mistresses versus Pupils".
Miss Duckworth was immensely popular amongst her girls. It was the
fashion to admire her.

"I think the shape of her nose is just perfect!" declared Francie
Sheppard. "And I like that Rossetti mouth, although some people might
say it's too big. I wish I had auburn hair!"

"I wonder if it ripples naturally, or if she does it up in wavers?"
speculated Elsie Bartlett. "It must be ever so long when it's down.
Annie Turner saw her once in her dressing-gown, and said that her hair
reached to her knees."

"But Annie always exaggerates," put in Sylvia Page. "You may take half a
yard off Annie's statements any day."

"I think Duckie's a sport!" agreed Laura Norris.

The girls were lounging in various attitudes of comfort round the fire
in their sitting-room at St. Elgiva's, in that blissful interval between
preparation and supper, when nothing