"I'd try. If I upset both of us you mustn't blame me. I'm not a very
steady rider."

"I'll risk it."

"Come along then, and we'll ask if anybody will look after the bike till
you can send for it."

Having found a friendly and sympathetic old woman, who consented to take
charge of the machine, Lesbia rode off with Maisie perched on her
luggage-carrier, and succeeded in balancing her burden and conveying her
safely into Kingfield.

"Now hurry home, and put cold cream on that leg," she advised, as she
set her down at the corner of her own road, a stiff and sore specimen of
girlhood, but an absolute lump of gratitude. "Oh, never mind about
saying thank you. You'd have done the same for me I've no doubt."

"I shan't forget it, if I live to be a hundred and nine," called Maisie,
as Lesbia remounted and rode away.

And she did not. She might be a troublesome girl, but she was staunch if
she took a fancy to anybody. For the future Lesbia was her heroine
instead of the butt of her powers of ragging. The difference which this
changed attitude made in IIIB was enormous. The girls were like sheep,
and followed where Maisie led. They ceased catechizing their teacher,
and behaved with some approach to decent order. One day Maisie, whose
new infatuation was almost embarrassing, and who followed Lesbia about
the school to the great annoyance of Marion and Regina, insisted upon
whispering a secret.

"I've found out about that water-throwing business," she confided. "It
was Jess and Gwennie who did it. They sneaked into the gate room, and
shot at people from the window with squirts. They said you nearly caught
them in the corridor as they were coming back, but they dodged inside
the book cupboard. I always guessed it was those two, because they'd
been showing us their squirts and 'baptizing' us, as they called it, in
the gym till we all scooted off. I had a quarrel with them both this
morning and I said I should tell you."

This was news indeed. Lesbia carried it immediately to the prefects.

"Of course you'll go straight to Miss Ormerod," urged Carrie. "The thing
ought to be set right at once."

"I don't know," Lesbia was wrinkling her brows. "I'm so out of favour
with Miss Ormerod that I really don't think it will make much
difference. And, anyway, she's leaving, and I shall probably never see
her again. It would get Jess and Gwennie into a terrific scrape, and it
seems no use stirring up more trouble. I'd rather leave thi