fair."

Finally, after much discussion it was decided that Eleanor should
consult Miss Marlowe, who must be informed that the culprit had been
discovered. Miss Marlowe was interested and sympathetic.

"I'll send her to the Infirmary for a few days," she said; "the child is
really not well. She is growing too fast and she is morbid and
self-centred. Every one thinks of her as seventeen and she has just
turned fifteen. Then after she is back again let the facts be made known
about the letters; that's only fair to Sally May and to Catherine; but
do it as casually as possible. Nothing is so bad for Genevieve as too
much attention--and keep an eye on Judith," she added; "she is worth
watching, Eleanor. She and Nancy ought to be prefects next year, so we
mustn't let Judith be spoiled over this."

Genevieve was safely tucked up in one of the cheerful Infirmary rooms,
and for the time she suffered as only a sensitive, highstrung girl of
fifteen can suffer. Her one interest in life at the present time was her
emotions; her passionate attachments were usually short-lived, but for
the time being they blotted out everything else. Just now she desired
Catherine's love and approval with all the force of her undisciplined
nature, and, born actress that she was, it was the wish to attract
Catherine's admiration, or at least her attention, which had made her
Malvolio last term so outstandingly good. She lacked a sense of
proportion in all her thinking, and even now that she had been found
out, and knew that she would be shamed in the eyes of the whole school,
the only thing that mattered to her was that Catherine would have even
less to do with her than before. Eleanor's stern voice might have been
the buzzing of a fly; Genevieve's eyes had been fixed on Catherine's
face and she had read her sentence there.

For two whole days she wanted to die, and then quite suddenly she
transferred her affections to a young nurse who was temporarily
assisting the school nurse. She made Miss Burton promise her at least
three dances for the prefects' dance on Friday night, and she did
frantic sums in mental arithmetic trying to calculate whether she had
enough in the bank to buy a posy of sweetheart roses for her new idol's
adornment.

Genevieve returned to school to find every one discussing the dance, and
the anonymous letters seemed entirely forgotten. But Eleanor found her
opportunity a day or two later. The usual crowd was about the letter-bo