nk yourself you'll be able to manage
the work?"

"I don't know, I'm sure," stammered Gwen. "I expect I'm behind in
maths.--but--"

"But you must try your best. I shall trust you to make a great effort.
I should be very sorry to have to put you down again. Come with me
now, and I'll take you to your new Form."

Gwen followed the Principal with her head in a buzzing whirl. It
seemed like a dream to be suddenly translated from the Lower School to
the Upper. She wished she could have had a little time to get
accustomed to the idea: she would have liked a day's preparation at
least, so as to think the change over and discuss it at home. Miss
Roscoe, however, always did things in a hurry; she never had a moment
to waste, and at present she whisked her pupil along the corridor and
into the Fifth Form room with almost breathless energy.

"Here's Gwen Gascoyne, Miss Douglas," she announced. "We'll try if she
can manage the work, and I've arranged with Miss Woodville to give her
the extra coaching we spoke about. She can bring her books from her
old classroom at eleven."

Thus saying, she bustled away to take a history lecture, leaving the
new member of the Fifth standing in much embarrassment. The eyes of
every girl in the room naturally were glued upon Gwen, who felt
herself twitching with nervousness under the scrutiny; but Miss
Douglas motioned her to an empty desk in the back row, and went on
with the lesson as if nothing had happened. I am afraid Gwen was too
agitated to absorb much knowledge that morning. She had not brought
notebook or pencil with her, and though at Miss Douglas's request her
neighbour rather ungraciously lent her a sheet of paper and a stump of
pencil, the notes which she took were scrappy and inadequate. She kept
stealing peeps at the other girls, but turning away when she met the
anything but friendly glances directed at her. The teacher asked her
one or two questions, then, seeing that she did not quite grasp the
subject, kindly ignored her.

"Talk of a fish out of water," thought Gwen; "I feel like an eel in a
frying pan. I believe these girls are going to be detestable. I shall
have to look out for squalls."

Nor was she mistaken. At eleven o'clock the storm broke. Directly Miss
Douglas had left the room for the interval the seventeen members of
the Fifth turned upon the newcomer.

"What are you doing here, Gwen Gascoyne, I'd like to know?" demanded
Edith Arnold, opening the attack.

"W