Then--“You took a very great responsibility on yourself, Betty Carlyle, in doing what you did,” said the head. “I am afraid that indirectly your action may be at the root of the loss of the Cup.” She spoke in tones as cold as the glance from her blue eyes. Then she turned and began to cross the lawn again. But even as she went she seemed to recollect something, and for one instant turned again. “All of you juniors will go at once, please,” she said, “and get ready for games. As I have kept you back for a moment it will be best, I think, for you not to waste time now in talking while you change your shoes, but to go straight to the field. Gerry and Betty, will you collect the rugs before you go?” It was kind of Sybil. Even at that moment, even while Betty was in the direst disgrace that had ever fallen upon her, the head girl had realized--even while blaming the culprit--her state of mind. By this arrangement Betty gained a few minutes’ breathing-space, with Gerry her friend at her side, before joining the rest. The Mascot bent over her task with a crimson face. _Would_ Gerry say anything comforting? But Gerry was apparently too much overwhelmed to speak. It was only when, carrying the rugs between them, they had nearly reached the house, that Betty summoned up courage to gulp out an inquiry. “Gerry,” she whispered in a panting voice, “I didn’t mean anything. I truly thought I was helping.” Gerry said nothing. “I--Sybil doesn’t think I--_took_ it, does she?” said poor Betty. “_Took_ it!” almost shouted Gerry in an outraged tone. “_Took_ it! Do you mean to say that Sybil--or any Guide--would think that of any other? You may be only a mascot,” went on Gerry, “but you’ve been at Benedick’s a month, and you ought to know.” “Oh.” Betty was half-relieved but almost half-frightened, too, by the vehemence of her friend’s tone. “Why----?” It was with Gerry’s next words that the full force of the situation struck her. “It’s not that Sybil thinks that; she couldn’t. We none of us could. And you couldn’t have done it; none of us could. But the Cup was taken by some one, I suppose, who saw you with it. A tramp, perhaps, creeping in while we were at dinner. And the Cup is in the Daisies’ charge this year; and our patrol is responsible for it.” “But it will be found. It couldn’t have gone far. I put it back quite carefully though I was hurrying, so it couldn’t have slipped off the ledge, or I would have thought it was just that. Gerry, you don’t mean that, if it isn’t found, the patrol will lose _marks_?” “_Marks!_” repeated Gerry almost scornfully. “As though marks were everything!” She stopped. The others were not so reticent. On the arrival of the two last-comers on the cricket field the excited looks of the players were hard to bear. When the game was over, too, and they all trooped back through the grounds and on to the terrace for tea, the same subject was on every lip. “Is the Cup found?”