ks? Oh, the good old times! The good old times,
how happy we were--how I think of them now, and long to be back! But
the best part remains, for I have still my friend, and you and I,
Darsie, `belong' for our lives.

"Cheer up, old dear! _You've done a lot better than you think_!

"Margaret."

"What's the matter now?" asked the second-year girl sharply, spying two
big tears course slowly down her patient's cheeks, and Darsie returned a
stammering reply--

"I've had such a ch-ch-cheering letter!"

"Have you indeed! The less of _that_ sort of cheering you get this
week, the better for you!" snapped Marian once more. She was jealous of
Margaret France, as she was jealous of every girl in the College for
whom Darsie Garnett showed a preference, and she strongly resented any
interference with her own prerogative. "Hurry into your dressing-gown,
please, and I'll brush your hair," she said now in her most dictatorial
tones. "I'm a pro. at brushing hair--a hair-dresser taught me how to do
it. You hold the brush at the side to begin with, and work gradually
round to the flat. I let a Fresher brush mine one right when I'd a
headache, and she began in the middle of my cheek. There's been a
coldness between us ever since. There! isn't that good? Gets right
into the roots, doesn't it, and tingles them up! Nothing so soothing as
a smooth, hard brush."

Darsie shut her eyes and purred like a sleek, lazy little cat.

"De-lic-ious! Lovely! You _do_ brush well! I could sit here for
hours."

"You won't get a chance. Ten minutes at most, and then off you go, and
not a peep at another book till to-morrow morning."

"Marian--_really_--I _must_! Just for ten minutes, to revive my
memory."

"I'll tell you a story!" said Marian quietly--"a _true_ story from my
own experience. It was when I was at school and going in for the
Cambridge Senior, the last week, when we were having the exams. We had
_slaved_ all the term, and were at the last gasp. The head girl was one
Annie Macdiarmid, a marvel of a creature, the most all-round scholar
I've ever met. She was invariably first in everything, and I usually
came in a bad third. Well, we'd had an arithmetic exam, one day, pretty
stiff, but not more so than usual, and on this particular morning at
eleven o'clock we were waiting to hear the result. The Mathematic
Master was a lamb--so keen, and humorous, and just--a _rageur_ at times,
but that was only to be expected.