a rather inscrutable expression on
her face.

"All the same I suppose you don't always want to go on being a kind of
leper and outlaw? Not very interesting, I should say, to come to
school every day and speak to nobody!"

Gwen was silent. She had no argument to advance.

"They're annoyed with you just at present for being moved into our
Form, but they can't keep it up long. In a little while they'll feel
accustomed to you and you'll get on all right. Then the question is,
are you going to belong to the Saints or the Sinners?"

"What do you mean?" asked Gwen.

"We're all one or other here. We call Hilda Browne and Iris Watson and
Louise Mawson and Rachel Hunter and Edith Arnold and a few more 'the
Saints'."

"Nothing very saintly about them that I can see!" sniffed Gwen.

"Well, it depends on your standards. Perhaps they thought they behaved
like saints at dinner."

"More like Pharisees! Which are you?"

Netta's brown eyes twinkled.

"I leave you to guess!" she replied sagely. "I'm not stiff and
stand-off like some of them are, at any rate. If you'd care to take a
walk down the corridor, I'll go with you."

A stroll with anyone was better than sitting alone in the classroom;
it was still only two o'clock, and there was half an hour to get
through before afternoon school began. Gwen was not averse to
exploring the upper corridor, for as a Junior it had been forbidden
ground to her. She and Netta went into the Sixth Form room, the Senior
French and German room, and even looked inside the teachers' room,
finding nobody there.

"Miss Roscoe's private sitting-room is at the end of the passage,"
said Netta. "She's down in the library, so if you like to take a peep,
you can."

The spirit of curiosity strongly urged Gwen to see what a
headmistress's private study was like, and thinking themselves
perfectly safe, the two girls entered, and began eagerly to scan the
pictures, the ornaments, the photographs, and the various objects
which were spread about on desk and tables. It was a pretty, tasteful
room, with choice prints from the old masters in carved oak frames,
and pots of ferns and flowers, and handsomely bound books, and curios
from foreign lands. The girls moved softly about, examining first one
thing and then another with increasing interest.

"Oh, do look at this exquisite little case of butterflies! I never saw
anything so perfect!" said Netta.

Gwen was standing absorbed in contemplation of a stain