the next number of a serial. Vivien, the fortunate
recipient of them, was envied. Several other enthusiasts suggested
opening a correspondence, but Patsie was adamant.

"The Sensation Bureau's got enough in this line on its hands. I'll
provide something else for you, if you like--a shipwreck, or an
air-raid, or a railway accident--but until those two are safely
'eloped', I can't take on any more love affairs. Oh, yes! you can put
down your names if you like. I've a nice little matter in my mind for
Audrey, later in the term--no, I shan't tell it you now, not if you beg
all day!"

The girls were sitting near the stove in the gymnasium before afternoon
school, and munching some home-made chocolate concocted with cocoa and
condensed milk. Like most war substitutes, it was not so good as the
real thing, but it was certainly much better than nothing. The talk,
with several side-issues concerning eatables, drifted back again to the
all-engrossing "Jack". Vivien, as the heroine of the romance, assumed an
attitude of interesting importance. She affected much knowledge of his
doings.

"You've never yet told us exactly what he's like," said Nellie.

"Well, of course it's difficult to describe him. He's tall, you know,
with flashing eyes and little crisp curls."

"Has he a moustache?"

"N--n--o, not exactly a moustache." (Vivien's imagination was not nearly
so ready as Patsie's.) "He's rather like Antonio in that piece they had
at the cinema last week. He flings money about liberally, and he's
always jumping into a motor and driving off very fast."

"Where does he get his petrol?" asked Lorraine.

"Oh, it's supplied by the Government. He has a simply enormous salary
and private means as well. We shall be rolling, you know. I'm looking
forward to having you all staying with me when we settle down."

The circle beamed almost as if the prospect were real.

"Where's the house?" enquired Audrey.

"He has several houses," said Vivien thoughtfully, checking them off on
her fingers. "A town one, of course, in the West End, a hunting-box near
Warwick, and a place in Wales. I believe there's an estate in Ireland as
well."

"Shall you hunt? Oh, Viv.!"

"Of course I shall. 'Jack' simply _adores_ hunting. We're going to talk
over my mount to-morrow, if the dear boy's able to turn up."

In the excitement of these prospective plans Vivien involuntarily
raised her voice. The previous conversation had been in subdued tones,
but h