At 12.30 Mavis, who had been sent to the school with a special recommendation that her health should be looked after, was carried off by Miss Pollard to be weighed and measured and otherwise inspected, while Merle, with boots and hat and coat on, and all impatience to be off, waited for her in the cloak-room. The other day-girls had scurried away with hardly more than a glance in her direction, and she sat alone, kicking her heels and not in the sweetest of tempers, till one of the boarders, passing the door, peeped in, saw her, and entered. The new-comer was a nice-looking girl, with grey eyes and a plait of very dark hair. She smiled in quite friendly fashion. "Hello!" she began. "Sitting here all by your lonesome? Why don't you go home?" "Can't. I'm waiting for Mavis." "Is Mavis the other? She's rather sweet! I like her fluffy hair and that blue velvet band. Somebody said she was older than you, but she doesn't look it." "People often take us for twins," conceded Merle. Iva Westwood shook her head. "No one with eyes, surely! You're alike in a way, but not very. Opal Earnshaw was fearfully angry that you beat her in maths. She's been cock of the walk till now." "Which is Opal Earnshaw?" "That fair girl who sat near you." Merle's face darkened. "That was why she tried to take it out of me in the French class, then?" "Oh, Opal tries to take it out of everybody. She won't be very pleased you two have come, I expect. You're too old to stand her bossing." "Why do other people stand it?" "Well, you see, she's head of the school, and Miss Pollard and Miss Fanny are her godmothers." "What difference does that make?" "A great deal of difference, as you'll soon find out. Everything their darling god-child does _must_ be right, that's the long and short of it. They favour her fearfully." "What a blazing shame." "Yes, some of us get rather fed up I can tell you. We mutiny every now and then." "Count on me, then, next time you have squalls." "Thanks!" "Tell me about some of the other girls. Who's that one in the green jersey who sat by the window and dropped her pencil-box? Is she nice?" "Edith Carey! Ye-e-s, she's nice enough in a way." (Iva's tone was unconvincing). "She's the kind of girl who drags on your arm when she's tired, and insists on kissing you when she's got a bad cold." "I understand--exactly. I suppose the other green jersey is her sister?" "Maude? Oh, she's not a bad sort either. Rather a slacker though, always late for everything. We say she'd be late for her own funeral. She made us miss the train once when we were going an excursion. What are the others like? Well, we call Aubrey Simpson the jackdaw, because she's always talking. Muriel Burnitt makes fun of everybody. You should hear her take off Mademoiselle! Nesta Pitman may be a little nasty to you at first, but don't mind her, because it's only her way with new people. She'll soon come round. She's rather off-hand, but a real sport!"