She tackled Opal in the cloakroom when the latter was tying her shoe-laces. "Look here, you blighter," she began, "what do you mean by cribbing my books and sticking them into the pound? It's the absolute limit." Opal tied an elegant bow, and put out a foot to admire the result. "I've never seen your books, my good girl," she yawned. "What are you setting on me for?" "You have! You took it out of my desk and put it in the pound on purpose. I know you did!" "I didn't!" "What a whopper!" "Look here, just stop talking!" "I shan't! I'll say what I think. We used to play 'rags' at Whinburn High, but when one girl started that rag of hiding books we all 'booed' her out of our secret society as a sneak." "How clever of you!" sneered Opal. "What you did at your precious high school is nothing to me, I'm sure." "Well, my _Julius Caesar_ is at any rate. You took it away, and it's you who've got to put the penny in the missionary box for it." "Don't count on me to pay your fines for you; I'm always stony broke," laughed Opal, as she put on her coat. "Opal Earnshaw, I _shan't_ pay that penny when it's your business." "Dear, dear! What tempers we get ourselves into! "'Little children should not let Their angry passions rise! Their little hands were never made To scratch each other's eyes!'" Opal spoke airily as she arranged her hat. "It'll come to scratching in another moment!" exploded Merle. "You _know_ it's all your fault." "Merle, _darling_! _Don't!_" remonstrated Mavis, seizing her sister's arm and whispering "It's no use and it only makes Opal all the nastier. I've put the penny in the box for you already. I told Miss Fanny, and she said it was all right. It's a shame, I know, but we can't do anything." "I'd like to spifflicate that girl," fumed Merle, looking after Opal, who was walking away giggling. Poor Merle took life hardly. She went home still reviling Fate. Directly lunch was over she seized her writing-pad and scribbled the following letter as fast as her pen would go. "Un-dear Opal, "I think you're the horridest, meanest girl I have ever met in my life, and that's saying something. You think yourself very clever and pretty, and all the rest of it, but you're not. You may get Miss Pollard to shut her eyes to what you do, but some day she'll find you out and then there'll be squalls, and I for one shall dance for joy. If you want to know what I think about you, I call you a proud popinjay; it's the best name to suit you! I wish you were not at this school or else that I hadn't come to it! "With the reverse of love, "Yours unaffectionately, "MERLE RAMSAY." "There! That's done me good!" she declared, handing the letter to her sister. Mavis read the effusion quite calmly, folded it, and placed it in the envelope addressed to Miss O. Earnshaw.