new and unusual for the head girl to come and take their hockey
afternoon. When not playing herself, Muriel generally superintended
the practices of the B or C teams. It was an unheard-of event that she
should condescend to coach the K teams, who were usually taken in hand
by some senior who knew very little more about the game than they did
themselves. When Kathleen Milne took the practice, she generally
contented herself by taking the time and leaving Sally Jones, or some
other obtrusive person, to do all the rest. A practice under Muriel
Paget would be something very different from the ordinary round of
things; and although highly flattered by the honour, the teams looked
forward with some apprehension to the next hour.

Muriel allowed the game to go on for about ten minutes. Then she blew
her whistle sharply.

"I'm going to try you in different places," she said, as the play
stopped. "You're none of you much good where you are. Now let's have
a complete shift round." And she proceeded to change the players about
until the whole field almost was transposed.

Up to now, Gerry had always played full back--or rather, she had stood
in that position. It would be incorrect to say that she had "played"
anywhere. But now Muriel signalled to her to come forward.

"You're no good at all as back, Gerry. Come and try centre forward for
a bit. And, Sally, you take Gerry's place at full back. Now are you
all arranged? Come along, Gerry, and take your place."

"But, _Muriel_--I can't play centre forward. Why, I don't even know
how to bully!" expostulated Gerry, aghast at the greatness thus
suddenly thrust upon her.

"Don't you? Well, that can soon be remedied. Here, where's the ball?
Lend me your stick a moment, Betty. Now, Gerry, stand square. No, not
like that--feet apart. So. That's better. Now--one, two, three--now
hit the ball. See? Do it again until you've quite got it." And she
made the younger girl repeat the performance again and again until
Gerry really seemed to know the correct movements.

"Now, then, come along and begin. Here's your stick, Betty--thanks
very much."

But Gerry still hung back.

"Oh, Muriel--I can't!" she breathed unhappily. But Muriel only smiled
down into her face, kindly but very firmly.

"Now, Gerry, don't be silly. This isn't a match, and it doesn't matter
a hang if you do make a mess of it. You can't live at Wakehurst Priory
and not play hockey. We're al