and had taken special notice of her. A
girl who had so lately consorted with the county could not be expected
to tolerate a tyro from the backwoods. Stephanie was too well brought up
to allow herself to be often openly rude; her taunts were generally
ingeniously veiled, but they were none the less aggravating for that.
The Cuckoo might be callow in some respects, but in others she was very
much up-to-date. Though she would look obtuse, and pretend not to
understand, as a matter of fact not a gibe was lost upon her, and she
kept an exact account of the score.

One morning, early in December, Miss Teddington, who was distributing
the contents of the postbag, handed Stephanie a small parcel. It was
only a few days after the latter's birthday, and, supposing it to be a
belated present, the mistress did not ask the usual questions by which
she regulated her pupils' correspondence. The letters were always given
out immediately after breakfast, and the girls took them upstairs to
read in their dormitories during the quarter of an hour in which they
made their beds and tidied their rooms. This morning, just as Ulyth was
shaking her pillow, Rona came in, chuckling to herself. The Cuckoo's
eyes twinkled like stars.

"D'you want some sport?" she asked. "If you do, come with me, and have
the time of your life!"

Ulyth put down the pillow, and hesitated. Fifteen minutes was not too
long an allowance for all she was expected to do in her room. But Rona's
manner was inviting. She wanted to see what the fun was. The temptress
held the door open, and beckoned beguilingly.

"All serene!" yielded Ulyth.

Rona seized her by the arm and dragged her delightedly down the passage.

"Now you're chummy," she murmured. "Whatever you do, though, don't make
a noise and give the show away!"

Still in the dark as to the Cuckoo's intentions, Ulyth allowed herself
to be led to Dormitory 2, No. 4, at the opposite side of the house. We
have mentioned before that the bedrooms at The Woodlands were very
spacious--so large, indeed, that each was partitioned into four cubicles
divided by lath-and-plaster walls. A passage inside the dormitory gave
access to the cubicles, which were in fact separate little bedrooms,
except that the partition walls, for purposes of ventilation, did not
reach the ceiling. At present the fourth cubicle in Dormitory 2 was
unoccupied, but its furniture was rather curiously arranged. One of the
beds had been pulled close ag