Brenda Page

“ It seems such a fascinating occupation—I mean, throwing stones down wells to hear the splash."
"It's more fascinating than throwing yourself down," sighed Monica, on whose more highly strung nerves the strain of their unpleasant situation was beginning to tell. In response Nat shouted again, but still there was no answer to their cries for help. At last even Nat, whose head was throbbing violently, began to lose heart.
"I feel like Alice in Wonderland," she said dismally. "Only I'm sure she didn't find falling down a rabbit-hole nearly as unpleasant as falling down a well." ”

“ She said nothing, even when one evening, on passing through the common-room in the company of three other Upper Fifth-formers, there was an audible hiss from one of the juniors. Duane walked on with her usual leisurely gait, Hilary flushed crimson, and France, who had been thinking out a colour scheme for a design, looked round in a bewildered fashion.
But Kitty stopped dead, then swung round and spoke curtly and coldly. "May I ask who that was meant for?"
"It's all right, Kitty. That wasn't meant for you, nor for France. You're a sport all right." ”

“ Kitty hated the idea of belonging to such a slack house. Couldn't she do something herself? She knew she was a good tennis and cricket player, and later on she would play for all she was worth. But the playing of one girl wouldn't make such a great deal of difference unless well supported. As the week slipped by she turned things over in her mind, until suddenly an idea flashed into it. Of course, they would think it frightful conceit on her part, but she didn't care about that. At least, it would give Carslake's the shock that was necessary to wake up the house from its lethargy.... ”

“ Monica burst out laughing.
"I only said it for fun; just to make a little commotion among the self-satisfied Fifth. I never cared a brass farthing about it."
"All the same, you are cleverer than most of the girls in the Fifth," Nat persisted. "It's absurd to think of you being bottom. Did you do it on purpose?"
"Well, as I didn't care a scrap if I occupied the place and you cared very much, I thought I might as well rob you of it," Monica confessed, laughing.
Nat sat down in a chair and gazed at Monica wonderingly.
"You are a queer girl. I see it all now. ”

“ Erica sat quiet and still, her dreamy gaze wandering from Duane to Kitty, and from Kitty to Duane, and in her soft dark eyes was the whole-hearted if childish hero-worship that is so common and natural between small schoolboys and girls and their seniors, the girls and boys who are at top of the school. ”

“ The girls looked at one another in perplexity till Deirdre Samways said slowly: "I suppose Pam wouldn't consider playing in goal for the hockey eleven? Don't you remember last year, when the netball pitch was under water, Pam joined us in hockey practices and kicked the ball out for us as if she'd done it all her life? She's our best wicket-keeper too."
All eyes were turned to Pam. Here was an idea!
"If Pam could keep goal at hockey anything like she does at netball!" exclaimed Glenda. "She is as quick as lightning." ”

“ The two girls shouted and halloed at the top of their voices, but the mist only returned the echoes of their own cries.
"Coming on?" asked Duane curtly.
"Of course," returned Kitty as briefly.
"We must keep to the track though. Won't do to get lost ourselves."
They stumbled forward again, neither of them daring to voice their secret fear that Erica, frightened and lonely and without a light, had wandered off the track when the mist and the darkness had descended so quickly, and was lost on the downs. Such a possibility made them both shiver. ”

“ Monica stirred restlessly. "I don't want their friendship," she muttered, then added after a pause: "Besides, from what you say they were all ready to be nasty to me when I arrived—except Nat."
"Well, Nat spoke up for you," said Allison sharply. She went on in a gentler tone: "Nat's a nice kid, even if she does miss important catches at cricket and turn up at school parties with one stocking inside out. You won't come to much harm through her, if she's your friend." ”

“ If it had been anything else—but—but that kind of thing——"
"Then, the Richoter affair aside, your only prejudice to admitting me to your—your circle of friends, would be gone?"
"I don't know," replied Kitty, frankly. "You can't make yourself be friends with anyone, you know. At any rate, I don't think so. We're so utterly unlike, aren't we?"
"Are we? Then do you think that people must be alike to be friends?"
"They must have tastes in common," replied Kitty, firmly. "At least, so it has always seemed to me."
"Why not give it a trial?" suggested Duane. ”

“ Nat agreed. Then, touched by Monica's forlorn words and look, she added impulsively: "I say, I'm sorry I made such a fuss over that business about Irene and the hockey match. I expect I sounded an awful prig. Let's forget it, shall we? I'd much rather be in my own study with you—even with all those horrible things on the walls—than pushing myself in with other girls who don't really want me, nice though they are about it, and where there isn't room for my big feet." ”

“ Monica seemed to shrink back in her seat.
"Nothing," she replied sullenly. "I haven't anything to say. I didn't send the telegram, though."
"We don't suppose you did," retorted Lorna with sarcasm, "seeing that it was sent from London. No doubt you got someone to send it for you."
"Don't argue with her, girls," advised Olive. "She isn't worth it. Just ignore her. If this is true, there are plenty who will see the matter isn't overlooked."
"Prinny for one," stated Lorna. "Madge and Irene went to tell her all about it." ”

“ Never ye mind; summer's before us, and cricket and tennis. Oh, the merry, merry month of May!" she began to sing in a tuneless voice.
"Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" sang somebody else; and there was a general chorus, "Oh don't, Paddy!"
"Always optimistic. You're very refreshing, Paddy, my child," remarked the tall girl when the hubbub had subsided. "I came down on the other line with Van, and she could talk of nothing but matriculation."
"When every prospect pleases, and only man is vile," sighed Paddy. "Hallo!" as her sharp eyes caught sight of Kitty's school hat resting on the rack. ”

“ The cubicle was empty. Quickly she made a round of the dormitory; the nine cubicles occupied by juniors were all deserted. The only occupants of the dormitory at that moment were herself, Kitty and Hilary, who could be heard breathing deeply and steadily, soundly asleep.
"Shall we follow them, and see what they're up to?" asked Kitty eagerly, only too willing for an adventure.
"No fear!" replied Duane with a yawn. "Bed for me. They'll only be gorging themselves in the common-room, I expect. Little wretches! It'll do in the morning. Good night." ”

“ Deirdre, who was the possessor of an even, placid disposition, only smiled. "But perhaps Nat really is a good player," she said. "She's pretty good at most games, isn't she?"
"Yes, quite," replied Pam. "Only she's generally an unlucky sort of player—falls down or something just at the critical moment."
"Yes," added Madge. "Don't you remember last sports day, how she led all through the obstacle race and at the very last obstacle, when everybody thought she was bound to win, she got stuck while crawling between the rungs of the ladder and could move neither forwards nor backwards? ”

“ Leger. "But you remember that I told you, knowing well enough your task was a difficult one, that if the juniors were insulting or refused to acknowledge your authority in any way, or if you found yourself in difficulties, you were to come to me and I would settle things for you. As you never came, perhaps I hardly realized how badly things were going sometimes."
Kitty broke in, with a chuckle, "Duane wouldn't ask for help from a soul. I know her and her pig-headed pride by now. If she were dying she'd never admit herself beaten." ”

“ Netball is a far superior game."
Nat looked supremely incredulous. "How do you make that out? Netball is tame compared with hockey."
"Hockey makes you round-shouldered, so a famous doctor once said."
"Netball's a soft game," Nat countered, adding conclusively: "Look at Allison's black eye last year and the time when Madge Amhurst had a front tooth knocked out. Whoever heard of anyone getting a black eye or black-and-blue ankles at netball! Anyone can last through a thirty minutes' netball match, but you've got to be up to form to last to the end of seventy minutes' gruelling hockey." ”

“ She never appeared flurried, and, for hockey, was even unhurried. She played with neat adroitness, using both stick and feet with remarkable dexterity, invariably successful in robbing the attacker of the ball just at the right moment and hitting away without pause, as hard and accurate as a machine. The danger came from the wings, for the Carslake half-backs were comparatively weak and too slow to hold the school forwards. Kitty and Bertha found their work cut out for them in that quarter, while, by a tacit understanding, Duane held the centre. ”

“ Our form is playing a school eleven, as there aren't enough girls in the Sixth to make up an eleven of their own."
"Yes, but what I meant was, which girl is batting for the Fifth and which for the school?"
Nat burst out laughing. "Why, both batsmen are on one side, of course."
"And all those other girls?"
"Oh, they are all on the other side and trying to get the batsmen out. There is the bowler; the wicket-keeper—the girl with the pads on—and the rest are fielding."
It was Monica's turn to look astonished. "What, two against one, two, three—ten, eleven! I don't call that a bit fair." ”

“ If she was going to begin to preach to her——
"How do you like the Fifth?" Allison asked in quite a friendly tone.
"I haven't thought much about them. They seem very pleased with themselves always," replied Monica calmly.
Allison laughed. "Oh, they are quite a nice lot really, but they've always been looked upon as a model form because they do their lessons conscientiously, so they've become rather self-satisfied. How do you like Nathalie?"
"Nathalie?" Monica stared uncomprehendingly.
"Nat Sandrich. Nathalie's her real name, you know, but it doesn't fit very well." ”