"I don't care. Go in for it just the same, fail and be humiliated," said her father. "You have brought it all on yourself. I am telephoning to Miss Grayling to apologize for taking you away, and to give her the specialist's instructions-games, more games, gym, walks-and most of all swimming!"

Swimming! The one thing Gwen detested most of all. She dissolved into tears again and wept the whole of the evening and the whole of the way down to Cornwall the next day. What had she done to herself? She hadn't been so clever after all! It had all ended in her having to take the exam without working for it, and in having to go in for games more than ever-and probably bathe every single day in that nasty cold pool! Poor Gwen. People do often bring punishment on themselves for foolishness-but not often to the extent that Gwendoline did.

The exam began. Everyone was jittery-even Alicia, curiously enough. Day after day the work went on, whilst the bright July sun shone in through the open windows, and the bees hummed enticingly outside. The girls were glad to rush off to the swimming-pool after tea each day-then back again they went to swot up for the next day's exam.

Something curious had happened to Alicia. She didn't understand it. The first day she sat and looked at the questions, feeling sure they would be easy for her. So they were. But she found that she could not collect her thoughts properly. She put her hand up to her head. Surely she wasn't beginning a headache!

She struggled with the questions-yes, struggled-a thing the quick-witted, never-at-a-loss Alicia had hardly ever done before! She looked round at the others, puzzled-goodness, how could they write so quickly? What had happened to her?

Alicia had seldom known a day's illness. She was strong and healthy and clever. She really could not imagine why this exam was so difficult. She could not go to sleep at night, but lay tossing and turning. Had she been overworking? No-surely not-the others had worked far harder than she had, and had envied her for not having to swot so much. Well, WHAT was it then?

"Gosh," thought Alicia, trying to find a cool place on her pillow, "I know what it must feel like now, to have slow brains like Daphne, or a, poor memory like Gwendoline. I can't remember a thing-and if I try, my brains won't work. They feel as if they want oiling!"

The others noticed that Alicia was rather quiet and subdued that week, but as they all felt rather like that, they said nothing. Quite a few of them went about looking very worried. Ruth looked white and drawn, Connie looked anxious, Gwendoline looked miserable, Daphne was almost in tears over the French-what a collection they were, thought Miss Williams-just like every other School Certificate form she had ever known, when exams were on. Never mind-it would be all behind them next week, and they would be in the highest spirits!

She glanced at one or two of the papers when they were collected. Darrell was doing fine! Gwendoline would be lucky if she got quarter marks! Mary-Lou was unexpectedly good. Connie's was poor-Ruth's was not good either. How strange! Ruth was usually well up to standard! It was doubtful if she would pa.s.s, if she completed the rest of her papers badly. And Alicia! Whatever in the world had happened to her! Bad writing-silly mistakes-good gracious, was Alicia playing the fool?

But Alicia wasn't. She couldn't help it. Something had happened to her that week and she was frightened now.

"It must be a punishment to me for always laughing and sneering at people who aren't as quick and clever as I am," she thought, in dismay. "My brains have gone woolly and slow and stupid, like Gwen's and Daphne's. I can't remember a thing. How horrible! I'm trying so hard, too, that my head feels as if it's bursting. Is this what the others feel sometimes, when I laugh at them for looking so serious over their work? It's horrible, horrible, horrible! If only my brains would come back properly! I'm frightened!"

"Is anything the matter, Alicia?" said Darrell, on the last day of the exam. "You look all out."

Alicia never complained, no matter what went wrong with her. "No," she said. "I'm all right. It's just the exam."

She sat next to Darrell for the exam. At the end of the last paper, Darrell heard a slight noise. She looked up and gave a cry. Alicia had fallen forward over her papers!

"Miss Williams! Alicia's fainted!" she called. Matron was called, and as soon as Alicia came round again, looking bemused and strange, she was taken to the san. Matron undressed her-and cried out in surprise.

"You've got measles, Alicia! Just look at this rash-I never saw anything like it in my life! Didn't you notice it before?"

"Well-yes-but I thought it was just a heat-rash," said Alicia, trying to smile. "Oh, Matron-I'm so glad it's only measles. I thought-I really thought my brains had gone this week. I felt as if I was going potty, and I was awfully frightened."

Alicia felt so thankful when she got in to bed and rested her aching head against the cool pillow. She felt ill, but happy. It was only measles she had had that awful week! It wasn't that her brains had really gone woolly and stupid-it wasn't a punishment sent to her for sneering at the others who were slower than herself-it was just-measles.

And with that Alicia fell asleep and her temperature began to go down. She felt much better when she awoke. Her brains felt better, too!

"I'm afraid you'll have no visitors or company this week, Alicia," said Sister, who was in charge of the san. Matron had now departed back to school. "Just your own thoughts!"

Yes-just her own thoughts. Thankfulness that she wasn't going to be slow and stupid after all-shame that she had been so full of sneers and sarcastic remarks to others not so clever as herself-sadness because she knew she must have done terrible papers, and would surely fail. She would have to take School Cert. all over again! Blow!

"Well," thought Alicia, her brains really at work again, as her strong and healthy body began to throw off the disease, "well-I'd better learn my lesson-I shan't be so beastly hard again. But I honestly didn't know what it was like to have slow brains. Now I do. It's awful. Fancy having them all your life and knowing you can't alter them. I'll never sneer at others again. Never. At least, not if I can remember it. It's a frightful habit with me now!"

It was indeed. Alicia was going to find it very hard indeed to alter herself-but still, she had taken the first important step-she had realized that there was something to alter! She would never be quite so hard again.

The exams were over at last! The girls went quite mad and the mistresses let them! The swimming-pool was noisy and full, the tennis courts were monopolized by the Upper Fourth, the kitchen staff were begged for ice-creams and iced lemonade at every hour of the day-or so it seemed! Girls went about singing, and even sour-faced Mam'zelle Rougier smiled to see them so happy after the exam.

Gwendoline wasn't very happy, of course. Miss Grayling had taken her father's instructions seriously, and Gwen was having more games, more walks-and more swimming than she had ever had before. But it was no good complaining or grumbling. She had brought it all on herself-it was n.o.body's fault but her own!

The Connie Affair

"Now we can have a good time for the rest of the term," said Darrell, pleased. "No more swotting-no more long preps even, because Miss Williams says we've done enough. We'll enjoy ourselves!"

"It ought to be a nice peaceful end of term, with no horrid happenings," said Sally. "When Alicia comes back, it win be nicer still."

Sally was wrong when she said there ought to be a nice peaceful end of term, with no horrid happenings-because the very next day the Connie Affair began.

It began with quite small things-a missing rubber-an essay spoilt because a page was missing, apparently torn out-a lace gone from one of Connie's shoes.

n.o.body took any notice at first-things always were missing anyhow and turned up in the most ridiculous places-and pages did get torn out of books, and laces had a curious habit of disappearing.

But the Connie Affair didn't end there. Connie was always in trouble about something! "Now my French poetry book has gone!" she complained. "Now my cotton has gone out of my work-basket." Now this and now that!

"But, Connie-how is it that so many things happen to you lately?" said Darrell, puzzled. "I don't understand it. It's almost as if somebody was plaguing you-but who could it be? Not one of us would do silly, idiotic things like this-sort of first-form spite!"

Connie shook her head. "I can't think who's doing it," she said. "I suppose it is someone. It can't be a series of accidents-there's too many of them."

"What do you think about it, Ruth?" asked Darrell-but Connie answered first.

"Oh, Ruth can't think who does it, either. It's very upsetting for her, because twins are always so fond of one another. She's sweet, too-keeps on giving me her things when I lose mine."

"Well, it's certainly most extraordinary," said Darrell. "I'm very sorry about it, it's a horrid thing to happen in the fourth form!"

The girls talked about the Connie Affair, as they called it, and puzzled about it. One or two of them looked at Gwendoline, wondering if she had anything to do with it.

"Don't you remember how Connie flared out at Gwen and put her finger on Gwen's weak spot-when she was putting over that nonsense about her heart?" said Daphne. "And you know-Gwen has done these nasty tricks before. Don't you remember? She did them to Mary-Lou when we were in the second form."

"Give a dog a bad name and hang him," quoted Darrell. "Just because Gwen did once do thing like this, and got a bad name for it, doesn't mean we ought to accuse her of the same thing now. For goodness' sake wait a bit before we decide anything."

"There speaks a head-girl," said Irene, Darrell flushed. "I'm not head-girl," she said. "Wish I was. But seriously, it really is jolly queer, all this business. The things are so very silly too-Connie's ink-pot was stuffed up with blotting-paper this morning, did you know?"

"Well!" said Belinda. "How petty!"

"Yes-most of the things are petty and spiteful and quite futile," said Darrell. "You don't suppose they'll get any worse, do you? I mean-stop being petty and get harmful?"

"Let's hope not," said Mavis. "Here are the twins. Hallo, Connie-anything more to report?"

"Yes-somebody's cut my racket handle," she said, and showed it to them. "Just where I grip it! Mean, isn't it?"

"You can use mine, Connie. I told you," said Ruth, who was looking very distressed. "You can use anything of mine."

"I know, Ruth-but supposing your things get messed up, too?" said Connie. "I'd hate that."

"It's all very, very queer," said Irene, and hummed a new melody she had just composed. "Tooty-tooiy-tee!"

Mavis sang to it-"It's all" very-queer! It's all-very-queer!"

"I say!" said Darrell. "Your voice is coming back! That's just how you used to sing, Mavis! It is, really."

"Yes, I know," said Mavis, her face red with pleasure. "I've tried it out when I've been alone-though that's not often here!-and I thought it had come back, too. Let me sing a song for you, and you can tell me if you think I've got my voice back!"

She sang a song that the lower school had been learning. "Who is Sylvia, what is she?" The girls listened spellbound. Yes-there was no doubt about it, Mavis's lovely low, powerful voice had come back again-better than ever. And this time it was owned by a Somebody, not a n.o.body, as it had been before!

"We shall once again hear you saying, 'When I'm an opera singer and sing in Rome and New York and...'" began Darrell. But Mavis shook her head.

"No, you won't. You know you won't. I'm not like that now. Or am I? Do say I'm not!"

"You're not, you're not!" said everyone, anxious to rea.s.sure a girl they all liked.

Darrell clapped her on the back.

"I'm so glad, Mavis. That almost makes up for this horrid Connie Affair, You'll be able to have singing lessons again next term."

For a day or two it seemed as if the Connie Affair was at an end. Connie did not report any more strange happenings. Then she came to the common-room almost in tears.

"Look!" she said, and held up her riding-whip. It was one she had won at a jumping compet.i.tion and was very, very proud of it.

The girls looked. Someone had gashed the whip all the way down, so that in places it was almost cut through. "I had it out riding this afternoon," said Connie, in a trembling voice. "I came home and took my horse to the stable..."

"You took two horses," said Bill. "Yours and Ruth's, too. I saw you."

"I took the horses to the stable," said Connie, "and left my whip there. When I went back to look for it, I found it like this!"

"Anyone in the stables?" said Darrell.

"No. n.o.body at all. Bill had been there, of course, and June and Felicity had, too-and I and Ruth. n.o.body else," said Connie.

"Well, one of those must have done it," said Darrell. "But honestly I can't believe any of them did. Ruth and Bill certainly wouldn't. My sister Felicity wouldn't even think of such a thing. And I feel pretty certain June wouldn't either, much as I dislike that cheeky little brat."

"Anyway, both the first-formers had gone by the time I'd stabled the horses," said Connie. "You didn't see them when we left, did you, Ruth?"

"No," said Ruth.

"Did you notice anyone else at all, when you were grooming your horse, Ruth?" asked Darrell, puzzled.

"She didn't even groom her horse," Connie answered for her. "I always do that. She stood there, looking at all the other horses, and would have seen anyone slinking. round."

Everyone was puzzled. Ruth went out of the room and came back with her own whip, a very fine one. "You're to have this, Connie," she said. "I'm so upset about all these things happening. I insist on your taking my whip!"

"No, no," said Connie. "I don't mind taking things like rubbers and shoe-laces-but not your beautiful whip."

That evening Darrell was alone with Bill. She was worried and puzzled. "Bill," she said, "are you sure there was n.o.body else in the stable but you and the twins this afternoon? I suppose-er-well, Gwendoline wasn't there, was she?"

"No," said Bill.

"I hated to ask that," said Darrell, "but it is just the kind of thing Gwen would do."

"It's her own fault if we think things like that of her," said Bill..

"Why does Connie groom Ruth's horse for her?" asked Darrell. "Is Ruth so lazy? She's always letting Connie do things!"

"No. She's not lazy," said Bill. "She's just queer, I think-a shadow of Connie! Well, I must go and give Thunder a lump of sugar, Darrell. See you later."

She went out and left Darrell thinking hard. A curious idea had come to her mind. She fitted one thing into another, like a jigsaw puzzle-she remembered all the unkind things that had been done to Connie, and she remembered also all the kind things that Ruth had done to try and put right the unkind things. She remembered also a queer look she had seen on Ruth's face that evening, when Connie had refused Ruth's whip.

"A kind of frightened, half-angry look," thought Darrell. "Just as if she'd apologized to Connie, and the apology had been refused."

And then something clicked in her mind and she suddenly saw who the spiteful person might be that played all these petty tricks on Connie.

"What am I to do about it?" wondered Darrell. "I can't tell anyone in case I'm wrong. It's got to be stopped. And I'm half afraid of going and tackling anyone to get it stopped. But I must! It's serious."

She got up and went in search of Ruth. Yes, it was Ruth she wanted, and Ruth she must tackle!

Darrell puts things Right.

Where was Ruth? She wasn't in the common-room or the dormy or the cla.s.sroom. Where could she be?

"Anyone seen Ruth?" asked Darrell, when she met any girls in her search. n.o.body had. But at last a second-former said she thought she had seen Ruth going into the gardeners' shed by the stables.

Darrell sped off to look. She came to the shed, where the gardeners kept their tools, and stopped outside the door to try and think what she was to say.

As she stood there, she heard a curious sound. Somebody was certainly in the shed-and the sound was like a kind of groan. Darrell pushed open the door quietly and looked in.

Ruth was there, right at the back, sitting on some sacks. 134 In her hand she held the cut and broken riding-whip, which she had obviously been trying to mend.

She didn't see Darrell at first. She put her hand over her face and made another sound-either a groan or a sob, Darrell didn't know which.

"Ruth," said Darrell, going up. "Ruth! What's the matter?"

Ruth leapt up in fright. When she saw it was Darrell she sat down on the sacks again, and turned her face away, still holding the broken whip.

"Ruth," said Darrell, going right up to the girl, "why did you spoil that lovely whip of Connie's?"

Ruth looked up quickly, amazement and dismay on her face. "What do you mean?" she said. "I didn't spoil it! Who said I did? Who said so? Did Connie?"

"No. n.o.body said so. But I know you did," said Darrell. "And it was you who did all the other horrid things, wasn't it?-took this and that, hid things, and broke things, anything you could get hold of that belonged to Connie."

"Don't tell anyone," begged Ruth, clasping Darrell's hand tightly. "Please don't I won't do it again, ever."

"But Ruth-why did you do it?" asked Darrell, very puzzled. "Anyone would think that you hated your twin!"

Ruth slapped the broken whip against the sacks. She looked sulky. "I do hate her!" she said. "I always have done-but oh, Darrell, I love her, too!"