one would be allowed even to come in and speak to her. The prospect of
sleeping alone without Sylvia made her feel wretched, and it was not
till then that she began to realize how much her friend was to her,
and what a terrible loss it would be if they were separated.

"Perhaps Miss Kaye won't let us have a bedroom together again," she
said to herself. "I wonder whom she'll put me with! Suppose she sent
one of the big girls to sleep here, Bessie Cunningham, or Marjorie
Moreton. How hateful it would be! There'd never be any fun or talks
in bed in the mornings. Or perhaps I shall be just alone, as I was
before Sylvia came. I didn't care then, but I mind it dreadfully now
I'm so accustomed to her."

In the meantime Sylvia was feeling as dejected as Linda at the course
which events had taken. She knew her friend was not so much to blame
as the others, and it was terrible to find her mixed up in such an
unpleasant business.

"Hazel often tells stories," she reflected, "and I never thought much
of Nina. But I'm sure Linda wouldn't do such a thing. There must be
some mistake. If I could only see her, and get her to explain it all."

That, however, was impossible. She was strictly forbidden to go into
her bedroom, and neither Miss Coleman nor Miss Arkwright would give
any news of the three banished offenders.

It was a very dismal evening in the playroom for the remaining members
of the third class. It cast quite a gloom over their spirits. Connie
Camden did not tease and play tricks as usual, and Jessie Ellis had to
retire to a corner occasionally and wipe her eyes.

"You shouldn't have let them go," said Marian to Sylvia. "You were
there and heard their plans."

"How could I stop them?" cried Sylvia indignantly. "I said I wouldn't
go myself. Hazel is more than a year older than I am, and she never
listens to anything I say. She was as rude as she could be, and
persuaded the others to go with her. Did you want me to go telling
tales to Miss Arkwright?"

"No, but you might have said more. I don't believe they would have
gone if I had been there. I should have thought of so many reasons to
stop them. It was a great pity I was at my practising," said Marian,
who was always wise after an event.

"Well, why didn't Gwennie say it all?" demanded Sylvia. "She was
there."

"Gwennie is much younger, and isn't expected to tell people what they
ought to do. It's quite enough for her to do as she's told herself."

"I'm only