as good as lost my chance already,
and I needn't bother about it any more. I'll never try for a prize
again, I know that.'

She began to hum a tune in a would-be-indifferent, reckless way, but
Jacinth knew that this was only bravado, and that it would be followed
by great vexation of spirit, and she felt sorry and anxious.

'I'll tell you what, Frances,' she said at last, after sitting for some
time, her head resting on her hand, her own work at a standstill for the
moment--'I'll tell you what: the only plan is this--for you to go
straight to Miss Scarlett herself and tell her all about your having
forgotten the book, and how anxious you are about the prize. I daresay
she'd let you go to your shelf and fetch it; she would see you had not
broken her rule.'

It was a good idea, and Frances recognised this, but all the same she
did not like it at all.

'I'd have to go to the front-door,' she said reluctantly, as she sat
drumming her fingers on the table, 'and I can't go alone.'

'There's no need for you to go alone: take Phebe. Aunt Alison wouldn't
mind your taking her in the morning for once. I'll help her to put away
our things from the laundress, or whatever it is she's busy about. And I
think you'd better go at once, Frances, if you're going.'

'Aunt Alison won't be in till dinner-time, so I can't go till after
then,' said Frances.

'Yes, you can,' Jacinth persisted. 'You know you can. I undertake to put
it all right with Aunt Alison. Do go at once. If I have half an hour
quietly to myself, I shall have finished my lessons by the time you come
in--it won't take you more than half an hour--and then I can help
Phebe.'

'If I could see Miss Marcia Scarlett I shouldn't mind so much,' next
said Frances, still irresolutely.

Jacinth's patience began to give way.

'You are too bad, Frances,' she said. 'You are spoiling my work and
losing any chance you have of getting the book. If you wait till the
afternoon, most likely all the Miss Scarletts will be out or engaged,
and I rather think--yes, I am sure the boarders told me that the
school-books are locked up at noon on Saturday till Monday morning. Ask
for Miss Marcia, if you like; you've just as good a chance of seeing her
as the others. But you must decide. Are you going or not?'

Frances got up slowly from her seat and moved towards the door.

'I suppose I must,' she said in a martyrised tone. 'You do scurry one
so, Jacinth.' And then when, having borne this