Tell
Patsie not to sell them till I come!"

She had reached the Second Form stall, and was hurriedly reviewing its
contents, gazing over the heads of a chattering mob of juniors. Suddenly
she gave a gasp of consternation. In the middle of the bench, temptingly
spread forth in a row, were a number of objects with which she was
familiar--some coloured supplements from Christmas numbers, a mug with a
robin on it, a sandalwood box, a carved photo frame, a travelling
ink-pot, two plaques of Thorwaldsen's "Night" and "Morning", and a model
of a Swiss chalet. They were household articles which she had
appropriated to herself, and had hidden away for safety in a drawer on
the top landing at home. Each one was a treasure. She loved the coloured
supplements, and had meant to have them framed when she could afford it.
The robin mug was her last link with childhood. The chalet, though
really the property of Richard, had been knocking about in the attic
till she had rescued it, and the other things had all been apparently
discarded by their rightful owners until she had adopted them. To see
them here, laid out ready for sale, was a shock.

"It's that abominable little wretch of a Cuckoo! I'll slay her for
this!" she thought grimly, and started off to find the offender. She
discovered her among a crowd of kindred pig-tails, and dragged her away
into a discreet corner.

"What do you mean by prigging my things for your stall?" she demanded
angrily.

"They're not your things!" retorted Monica. "Not more than anybody
else's. Those coloured pictures belong to Father and Mother, and the
chalet was Richard's, only I'm sure he doesn't want it, and the
ink-pot's the one Aunt Ellie left behind, and the photo frame is
Rosemary's. I found them all in a drawer on the top landing."

"You knew I'd put them there!"

Monica coloured to the tips of her ears.

"They're as much mine as yours!" she flared.

"Did Mother say you might have them?"

"I didn't ask her, and no more did you when you took them! Anyhow,
they're 'white elephants' now, and 'on sale'."

"You must get them back, Monica!" urged Lorraine desperately. "Tell
Kitty and Joan you took them by mistake!"

"How can I? Really, Lorraine, I wonder at you! Do you want me to
disgrace the family? Nice thing it would look for the head girl's sister
to take things back that she'd just given! Why, the whole form would
scoff at us! Surely you might be ready to give up something for the
pr