king paper bag in his hand.

"Oh, do tell me, is it chocolate or caramels?" asked Gwen eagerly.

"Find out, madam! Now we'll see if I'm a good shot and if you're a
butter-fingers. Are you ready? All right then, here goes! Oh, I say,
well caught! Good old girl!"

"Told you I'd do it. Thanks most awfully! Have you kept any for
yourself? Then take--"

"Gwen Gascoyne!" said a stern voice suddenly at her elbow.

Gwen jumped as if she had been shot, and turning guiltily, found
herself face to face with Miss Trent. By the door stood Netta in
visible triumph.

"Gwen Gascoyne," said Miss Trent again, "is this the way you conduct
yourself when you're left to do your preparation? You're a disgrace to
the school--an absolute disgrace! We had thought our Rodenhurst girls
could be trusted to behave themselves."

"I was only talking to Dick," urged Gwen in self-defence.

"Is Dick your brother?"

"No--but--"

"Then you ought to be utterly ashamed of yourself. Such an affair has
never happened at Rodenhurst before. I sincerely hope nobody in the
street or in the houses opposite noticed the occurrence. It would be
enough to spoil the reputation of the school."

"I didn't know I was doing anything so dreadful!" retorted Gwen.

"Then it's time you learnt. Miss Roscoe will have to hear about this.
Report yourself in the study at four o'clock, and go at once to your
desk and begin your preparation. Put that paper bag on the
mantelpiece, I can't allow you to keep it."

Miss Trent sat down on Miss Douglas's vacant chair, evidently with the
intention of staying in the room to act Gorgon. Gwen walked to her
desk in the depths of humiliation. She caught Netta's glance as she
went by, and it seemed to add insult to injury.

"I know who sneaked," she thought. "Very well, Netta Goodwin, I've
done with you. You may tell any tales of me you like now; nothing
would ever induce me to be friends with you again. In for a penny in
for a pound. I expect you'll cut up nasty about that china business,
but I feel as if I don't care. I'm booked for an awful row with Miss
Roscoe! Oh, Dick, your sweets were well meant, but you little know
what they're going to cost me!"

Gwen had a very hazy remembrance of how she did her preparation that
afternoon. She wrote a French exercise almost automatically, feeling
the mistress's eye upon her the whole time. At four o'clock, with her
heart somewhere in the region of her shoes, she reported herself in
t