e funk!" she said in some disgust, as she set
Gerry on her feet again, and stood surveying her white face and
trembling figure; while the Middle School, amused and interested
spectators of the scene, pressed about the two at a respectful
distance. She might have said more, but at that moment someone in the
background exclaimed audibly:

"Why, of course! Isn't it German Gerry? What else do you expect her
to do but funk!"

The head girl swung round sharply, but she could not identify the
speaker.

"Who said that?" she demanded angrily. But nobody would give the
culprit away. However, the remark had the effect of cutting short her
reproof to Gerry, and with a dry: "Well, you'd better ask Miss Caton to
let you have extra gym practice until you get into it a bit, I should
think," she let the matter drop.

"That's enough for this afternoon. Fall in, please, order of forms,"
she said, addressing the assembled girls. Monica Deane went to the
piano and struck up a lively march. And to the tune of "The Coster's
Wedding" the Middle School marched out of the gymnasium and repaired to
its various dormitories to get ready for tea.

CHAPTER XXI

HECTOR OR PARIS?

That evening the lists for the dormitory hockey finals were posted up
on the notice-board. Muriel Paget and Monica Deane pinned them up on
their way out from supper, and after the two prefects had departed a
curious crowd quickly gathered round to see who had been selected.
Much to everybody's astonishment, Geraldine Wilmott's name figured
again in the Pink Dormitory list.

"_Surely_ Muriel isn't to let _her_ play again?" exclaimed Elsie
Lipscombe, the Green Dormitory's centre forward. "Why, it was only
through her that the Pink Dorm didn't win last time! It must be a
mistake!"

"Play who?" asked Dorothy Pemberton, who came up just then arm in arm
with Phyllis Tressider.

"Gerry Wilmott. She's down for left outside!"

"Not German Gerry?" cried Phyllis.

"Muriel must be cracked!" said Dorothy in disgusted amazement, as her
eyes verified the truth of Elsie's statement. "What on earth Muriel
can see in that little donkey I can't think! I don't think the head
girl ought to show such favouritism. It was all very well putting her
in last time when there was nobody else to play. But now there's Pam
Henderson, and Dora Wainscott, and Bee Tyrell, and heaps of others. It
isn't fair to go putting in a rotten little German coward who can't
play ho