ch flourish
of instruments. Fauvette, with her torn lace hurriedly pinned up,
piped a pretty little solo about "piccaninnies" and "ole mammies";
Aveline and Katherine gave a spirited duet, and the troupe in general
roared choruses with great vigour. Everybody decided that the
evening--barring the cocoa--had been a great success. The proceeds, in
particular, were highly satisfactory.

"One pound ten shillings!" announced Raymonde. "Just count it over,
somebody, please, to make sure I'm right! I don't call that half bad
for a Form concert. If the others do as well, we shall have quite a
nice sum. Shall I give it to the Bumble now?"

"She's gone upstairs. Besides, I believe it's Gibbie who's going to
send off the money. You'd better keep it till the others have had
their entertainments, and it can all be handed in together."

"Right-o! I'll take it and lock it up in my drawer. I say, it was
awful fun being coons, wasn't it?"

"Top-hole!" agreed the others.

CHAPTER XXI

The Blinded Soldiers' Fund

The examinations were drawing most horribly and imminently near, and
the Fifth Form, feeling themselves for the most part ill prepared for
the ordeal, were shivering in anticipation. Armed with textbooks, they
made desperate efforts to pull up arrears, and stock their brains with
an assortment of necessary facts. Ardiune crammed dates at every
available moment, Morvyth studied the map of Europe, Valentine devoted
herself to Virgil, and Magsie wept over French verbs, while the rest
tried to fill up any educational gaps and holes where they knew they
were lacking. The image of the Rev. T. W. Beasley, M.A. loomed large
on the horizon, and his advent was hardly regarded with pleasure.

"I know I'll be scared to death!" moaned Aveline. "If there are any
viva voces I shall break down altogether. I know I shall! Directly he
looks at me and asks a question, every single idea will go bang out of
my head!"

"It doesn't matter how well you know things if you're nervous!" agreed
Katherine.

"I hate the written exams!" groaned Raymonde. "They're so long, and
one gets so inky, and one's hand grows so stiff. I never can express
myself well on paper. Gibbie says I've no gift for composition."

"There aren't any J pens left in the cupboard," volunteered Maudie.
"And Ma'm'selle says it's not worth while sending for more just at the
end of the term, and we must use Waverleys for the exam. There's a
whole boxful of those."