ome sympathy with the shy new girl whom, up to
now, she had rather taken under her wing. As it was, it was Muriel,
brilliant, splendid Muriel, who had never known what it was to have an
attack of funk in her life, who was the more inclined to make excuses
for her. Ever since the mouse episode in the dormitory, which Muriel
had since recognised to have been real terror and not merely
affectation, as she had at first suspected, upon Gerry's part, the head
girl had been observing Gerry with some interest, and the girl's
genuine self-depreciation in her study that morning had touched her
more than she quite knew.

"Poor kiddie, I expect she's feeling pretty cut up about it," she said
sympathetically. And she actually waited until Gerry, forlornly
lagging in the rear of the other players, came up, in order to speak a
kind word to the disgraced member of her team.

Gerry, absorbed in her own miserable thoughts, did not see the head
girl until she was nearly upon her. Then she drew up short with a
nervous gesture, expecting a reprimand. But Muriel made haste to
remove the apprehension she saw in Gerry's eyes.

"Come on, kid; you seem to have got left behind," she said gently.
"Come and walk with me." And she slipped her hand through the younger
girl's arm.

"Oh, Muriel--I am so sorry----" began poor Gerry, the tears coming into
her eyes. But Muriel cut short the impending apology.

"Oh, rubbish!" she said. "Don't be sorry. Just do better another
time. That's all I want. After all, we haven't _lost_ the Cup, you
know. We shall have another shot for it next week or the week after,
and you must try and do better then."

"Oh no, no! Not in a match again! Please, please not, Muriel!" cried
Gerry, with such a note of anguish in her tone that Muriel realised
that this was not a case for the maxim, "You can do it if you only
try," with which she was used to encourage people who in her opinion
needed encouragement. In a vague sort of way it came home to her that
Gerry's mentality was rather outside her experience of schoolgirl
psychology, and for the moment she forbore to press the already
overtaxed girl further.

"Very well," she said gently. "Don't get into such a stew over it.
You shan't play in a match again until you feel more confident. But
you've got to learn to play hockey, you know. I must take you in hand
myself and see what I can do with you. Meanwhile you must cheer up,
and not go fretting yourse