?"

"Never!" Ulyth replied, wiping her eyes. "Rona, you don't realize what
damage you've done. There! oh yes, I'll forgive you, but if you want to
keep friends with me, don't go and do anything of the sort again, that's
all!"

Ulyth felt a little shy of meeting her class-mates after their discovery
of the very unflattering description she had written of them, but the
girls were good-natured and did not bear malice. They treated the whole
affair as an intense joke, and even took to calling one another by the
assumed names of the story. They composed extra portions, including a
lurid description of Ulyth herself, illustrated by rapid sketches on the
black-board. The disappointed authoress took it with what calm she could
muster. She knew they meant to tease, and the fewer sparks they could
raise from her the sooner they would desist and let the matter drop. It
would probably serve as a target for Addie's wit till the end of the
term, unless the excitement of the newly formed ambulance class chased
it from her memory. The Woodlanders were trying to do their duty by
their country, and all the girls were enthusiastically practising
bandaging.

"I wish we'd some real patients to bind up," sighed Merle one day, as V
B took its turn under Nurse Griffith's instructions.

"I'd be sorry for them if they were left to your tender mercies,"
retorted Mavis, who had been posing as patient. "My arm's sore yet with
your vigorous measures."

"What nonsense! I was as gentle as a lamb."

"A curious variety of lamb then, with a wolf inside."

"I believe The Woodlands would make a gorgeous hospital," suggested
Addie hopefully. "When we're through our course we might have some real
patients down and nurse them."

"Don't you think it! The Rainbow won't carry ambulance lessons as far as
that!"

CHAPTER VI

Quits

Ulyth, brushing her hair before the looking-glass one morning, hummed
cheerily.

"You seem in spirits," commented Rona, from the washstand. "It's more
than I am. Miss Lodge was a pig yesterday. She said my dictation was a
disgrace to the school, and I'd got to stop in during the interval this
morning and write out all the wrong words a dozen times each. It's too
sickening! I'd no luck yesterday. Phyllis Chantrey had my book to
correct, and her writing and mine are such opposite poles, we daren't
try it on."

"Try what on?" asked Ulyth, pausing with the brush in her hand.

"Why, the exchange dodge, you know."