did."

"But I did nothing!" cried Dreda miserably. "I only dressed and went
down to supper. I never took it out of this room at all--I'm certain,
positive--as certain as I'm alive!"

"But we could look. It is worth while looking. We must find it!"

But at this very moment the door of Miss Drake's room opened, and a
quick voice called out a summons.

"Dreda! I am waiting. Kindly come at once."

The colour ebbed still further from Dreda's cheeks, her eyes grew wide
and tragic, she extended her hands towards Susan, as if mutely appealing
for help, and felt them clasped with a strong protecting pressure.

"You must go, but I'll search. I'm a good looker, you know. Poor
darling! It _is_ hard, but I'll help--I _will_ help."

Then Etheldreda the Ready threw her arms round her friend's neck and
cried brokenly:

"Susan, dear Susan, you are good, and I love you! I was horrid about
the editorship... You would have been far better than I. This is my
punishment--I have brought it on my own head."

Her voice was so sweet, her eyes so liquid and loving, she drew herself
up and marched to her doom with so gallant an air, that her faithful
admirer thought instinctively of the martyrs of old. She turned and ran
hurriedly upstairs.

Meantime Miss Drake sat looking towards the door with an impatient
frown. The frown deepened at sight of Dreda's empty hands, and she
tapped on the table with the end of her pencil. Dreda's heart sank
still further at the sound which Miss Drake's pupils had learnt to
associate with their blackest hours.

"You have kept me waiting for ten minutes, Dreda. Where is your
manuscript? I have no time to waste."

"I--I--can't--I can't find it, Miss Drake."

Miss Drake leant back in her chair and became in a moment a monument of
outraged dignity. Looking at her, it was impossible to believe that one
had even ventured on the liberty of calling her by so familiar an
epithet as "The Duck." She turned her long neck from side to side,
elevated her eyebrows, and cleared her throat in an ominous manner.

"I am afraid I don't understand. You told me a few minutes ago that
everything was ready."

"So it was. In my desk. I left it there last night--I went to find it
just now, and--it's gone! Disappeared. I can't _think_ what has
happened. It was bound like a book. It looked beautiful. It's not my
fault!"

"Nonsense, Etheldreda!" cried Miss Drake sharply. "If you had put it in
you