't there something you have written
for me?' she asked.

Barbara jumped away from her in dismay. 'I quite forgot!' she said
penitently. 'I did begin to write something, and then--and then----' She
struggled in vain to remember what had happened, and gave it up with a
sigh. 'I don't know what I did, but I know I never wrote any more than
this,' she added, and produced the sheet of paper in a shamefaced manner.

Miss Finlayson took it, and glanced at the title that was written
crookedly across the top of the page. 'A Comparrisson of the Possition of
Women, now and in the eighteenth century,' was what she read. Below that
came quantities of smudges and blots, and at the bottom of all was
inscribed: 'These are the ink bogies that came and wrote the Princess's
compossition for her, and saved her from the awfull anger of the cruel old
witch called Finny.'

Miss Finlayson read this over more than once, then she folded up the sheet
of paper very carefully, keeping her face averted all the while. Babs was
sure she had been very naughty, and she was seized with a panic lest the
head-mistress should be too angry this time even to speak to her.

'I--I know it was very naughty of me,' she confessed anxiously; 'I
couldn't think of anything to say about it, and the pen made such
beautiful bogies, and--and--are you _awfully_ furious?'

Miss Finlayson had to look at her, then; and she made a last effort to
keep grave. The next moment the little room was filled with her laughter.

'My dear little girl,' she exclaimed, 'I am afraid I am not a bit furious.
The fact is--the ink bogies _have_ saved the Princess!'

CHAPTER VI

THE BOOTS OF THE HEAD GIRL

'I'm going to be in your class for everything except Latin and
mathematics,' shouted Barbara, flying into the juniors' room just
before dinner. It seemed to her of the first importance that everybody
should know which class she was to be in, and she was distinctly
surprised when Jean Murray, whom she had addressed, turned her back on
her and began talking loudly to some one else. 'Don't you hear?'
persisted Babs, coming round in front of her again. 'I'm going to be in
your class for everything except----'

'Sneak!' burst out Jean Murray, unable to control herself any longer.
'Tell-tale! You oughtn't to be in anybody's class, you oughtn't!'

Barbara stood stockstill, and looked at her. All the courage she had
regained from her peaceful morning in Miss Finlayson's study dwin