a little more."

"I can't tell you any more," said Gerry, a little wistfully. "But it
doesn't matter. I daresay I shall be able to think of the answer for
myself."

"Wait a minute," said Muriel, as Gerry was moving away. "I can't tell
you just what I should do without knowing all the circumstances; but
I'll tell you something my father told me when I first came to school,
and perhaps that will help you a bit. It's helped me several times.
He said, 'If ever you are in a difficulty, and don't know what is the
right thing to do under any special circumstances, just think which
would be the hardest--and it's ten to one you'll find that the
_hardest_ way is right.'"

Gerry's eyes were bent upon the ground for a moment. Then she lifted
them to meet the head girl's gaze with a look of determination in them
which touched Muriel strangely.

"Thank you," she said soberly. "That has helped--I guess I know now
which is the right thing to do." And with that queer look of decision
still upon her face, she turned away in the direction of the Lower
Fifth classroom.

"Queer kid, that," thought Muriel, as she made her way towards her
study, whither she was bound. "I like her, though, all the same.
There's something in her, which is more than one can say for the
majority of the kids here. It's a pity she's such an awful funk.
She'd really be quite a decent sort of girl if she could only get over
her nerves a bit."

If Muriel had only known it, the "awful funk" was on her way at that
moment to perform a braver action than the head girl, with all her
prowess at hockey and gym, had ever performed in her life.

CHAPTER XVII

INTO THE LION'S MOUTH

The Lower Fifth was deep in its preparation when Gerry entered the
classroom. One or two heads were raised at her entrance, but nobody
paid much regard to her as she walked across the room to her desk,
which was in the front row. The Lower Fifth was trusted to do its
preparation without a mistress's supervision, and, as a rule, this plan
worked well enough. There was a certain amount of talking at times, it
is true, but not a very great deal, and the little there was did not
take place in general until all the more serious work of preparation
had been accomplished. To-night the class was in the throes of a stiff
bit of translation for Mademoiselle, and nobody felt inclined to break
the silence.

Gerry reached her desk, but she did not sit down in it. She hesitated,