day. The atmosphere
was not altogether harmonious: she felt as if their thoughts were
running round in circles, and had not yet met at a mutual angle of
comprehension.

"Loveday doesn't understand me--she thinks me a spoilt cry-baby!" she
kept repeating to herself, and the mere fact of realizing that attitude
in her companion prevented her from trying to explain the situation.
Hair-brush drill proceeded in dead silence, only broken by an occasional
gasping sigh from Diana, which echoed through the room about as
cheerfully as a funeral dirge. Loveday stared at her once or twice as if
about to make a remark, but changed her mind; she dawdled about the
room, opening drawers and rearranging her possessions. When at last she
was ready to put out the light she paused, and turned to the other
cubicle. Diana lay quietly with her nose buried in the pillow. Loveday
bent over her and dropped a butterfly kiss on the inch of cheek visible.

"Poor old sport! Was I rather a beast?" she said; then, hearing Miss
Beverley's patrol step in the passage, she dabbed the extinguisher on
the candle and hopped hastily into bed.

All night long Loveday had uneasy and troubled dreams about Diana. They
met and parted, and quarrelled and made it up; they did ridiculous and
impossible things, such as crawling through tubes or walking on roofs;
they were pursued by bulls, or they floated on rivers; yet always they
were together, and Loveday, with a feeling of compunction and no sense
at all of the ridiculous, was trying with a sponge to mop up Diana's
overflowing rivers of tears that were running down and making pools on a
clean table-cloth. She awoke with a start, feeling almost as if the
sheets were damp. Stealthy sounds came from the next cubicle, and the
candle was lighted there.

"What's the matter, Diana?"

"S-h-s-h!"

"Aren't you well?"

"Yes, I'm all right."

"What is it, then?"

As a grunt was the only answer, Loveday got up and drew aside the
curtains. Her room-mate was ready dressed, and was in process of combing
her light-brown locks and fixing in a slide.

"What the dickens are you up to, child?" ejaculated Loveday in
amazement.

Diana turned quickly, pulled Loveday down on to the bed, flung an arm
round her, and laid a fluffy head on her shoulder.

"Oh, _do_ be a sport!" she implored.

"But what do you want to do?"

"Look here--it's like this! I'm such a duffer at explaining, or I'd have
told you last night. My cousi