rjorie ran up to her cubicle for a
pocket-handkerchief, to her surprise she found Mrs. Morrison there
superintending a man who was measuring the window. She wondered why, for
nothing, apparently, was wrong with it; but nobody dared ask questions
of the Empress, so she took her clean handkerchief and fled. Later on
that day she learned the reason.
"We're to have brass bars across our window," Sylvia informed her. "I
heard the Empress and the Acid Drop talking about it. They're fearfully
expensive in war-time, but the Empress said: 'Well, the expense cannot
be helped; I daren't risk letting the poor child jump through the
window. Her door must certainly be locked every night.' And Norty said:
'Yes, it's a very dangerous thing.'"
"Are they putting the bars up for me?" exclaimed Marjorie.
"Of course. Don't you see, they think you walk in your sleep and might
kill yourself unless you're protected. Nice thing it'll be to have bars
across our window and our door locked at night. It will feel like
prison. I wish to goodness you'd never played such a trick!"
"Well, I'm sure you all wanted me to. It wasn't my idea to begin with,"
retorted Marjorie.
Great was the indignation in No. 9 at the prospect of this defacement of
their pretty window. The girls talked the matter over.
"Something's got to be done!" said Betty decidedly.
[Illustration: THEY WERE HUDDLED TOGETHER, WATCHING HER WITH AWESTRUCK
FACES]
"Yes," groaned Marjorie, "I shall have to own up. There's nothing else
for it. But I'm not going to tell the Acid Drop. I'm going straight to
the Empress herself. She'll be the more decent of the two."
"I believe you're right," agreed Betty. "Look here, it was my idea, so
I'm going with you."
"And I was in it too," said Irene.
"And so was I," said Sylvia.
"Then we'll all four go in a body," decided Betty. "Come along, let's
beard the lioness in her den and get it over."
Mrs. Morrison was extremely surprised at the tale the girls had to tell.
She frowned, but looked considerably relieved.
"As you have told me yourselves I will let it pass," she commented, "but
you must each give me your word of honour that there shall be no more of
these silly practical jokes. I don't consider it at all clever to try to
frighten your companions. Jokes such as these sometimes have very
serious results. Will you each promise?"
"Yes, Mrs. Morrison, on my honour," replied four meek voices in chorus.
CHAPTER IX
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