on, when tea was finished, Ulyth, instead of joining the
others as usual, walked upstairs to put away some specimens in the
Museum. She passed V B classroom as she did so, and heard smothered
peals of mirth issuing from behind the half-closed door.

"What are they doing?" she thought. "I believe I'll go and see." But
catching Rona's laugh above the rest, she changed her mind, walked on,
and bestowed her fossils carefully in a spare corner of one of the
cases. Meanwhile, the group assembled round the fire in V B were
enjoying themselves. The room was growing dusk, but, seated on the
hearthrug, Addie Knighton could see quite sufficiently to read aloud
extracts from a document she was perusing, extracts to which the others
listened with thrilling interest, interspersed with comments.

"'The girls of the Oaklands'," so she read, "'were a rather peculiar and
miscellaneous set, especially those in the Lower Fifth. Scarcely any of
them could be called pretty--'" ("Oh! oh!" howled the attentive circle.)
"'One of them, Valerie Chadford, imagined herself so, and gave herself
fearful airs in consequence; she was very set up at knowing smart
people, and often bragged about it.'" ("I'll never forgive her, never!"
screamed Stephanie.) "'The twins, Pearl and Doris, were fat, stodgy
girls, who wore five-and-a-halfs in shoes and had twenty-seven-inch
waists.'" ("Oh! Won't Merle and Alice be just frantic when they hear?")
"'But even they were more interesting than Nellie Clacton, who usually
sat with her mouth open, as if she was trying to catch flies.'" ("Does
she mean me?" gasped Mary Acton indignantly.) "'Florence Tulliver was
inclined to be snarly, and often said mean things about other people
behind their backs.'" ("I'll say something now!" declared Gertrude
Oliver.) "'And Annie Ryton was----'" but here Addie broke off abruptly
and exploded.

"Go on! Go on!" commanded the girls.

"It's too lovely!" spluttered Addie. "O--ho--ho! So that's what she
thinks of me, is it?"

"Read it, can't you?"

"Here, give the paper to me!"

"No, no! I'll go on--but--I didn't know my eyes were like faded
gooseberries, and my hair like dried seaweed!"

"Has she described herself!" asked Stephanie.

"I haven't come to it yet. Oh yes! here we are, farther on: 'Our
heroine, Morvyth Langton, was an unusually----'"

But here Addie stopped abruptly, for a blazing little fury stood in the
doorway.

"Addie Knighton, how dare you? How dare you? Giv