"Is it always as bad as this?" Dreda demanded plaintively of her room- mates as they brushed their locks in company before retiring to bed on the evening of her fifth day at West House. "Do you _never_ have anything nice and light, that doesn't taste of suet and oven? Does it get better as summer comes on?" "Worse!" pronounced Nancy shortly. Dreda had devoted five whole days to the study of Nancy's character, and to this hour could not make up her mind whether she most liked or detested her. She was the oddest of girls: nothing seemed to excite her, nothing to trouble, nothing to please. Occasionally she would show swift, kindly impulses, as when she had offered to become Dreda's coach; but not a flicker of disappointment did she portray if such impulses were repulsed, not a gleam of pleasure if they were accepted. At other times she seemed to take a perverse pleasure in making the worst of a situation and playing the part of Job's comforter. "Worse!" she sighed. "Much worse! Because it's warm weather, and your fancy lightly turns to nicer things. It's a bit of a cross to see strawberries in the shop windows, and them come home to `Brother, where art thou?'" "What brother?" "Raisins!" said Nancy, and sighed again. "They lose each other in such steppes of suet." Conscientious Susan exclaimed in protest. "Nancy! Too bad. There is always stewed rhubarb!" But this was poor comfort, for Dreda disliked stewed rhubarb almost as much as suet itself. She pouted disconsolately for several moments, then smiled with sudden inspiration. "I'll get a doctor's order!" "What for?" "Plenty of fresh ripe fruit. Vegetarian diet. Fruit, and cream, and eggs during the summer heat!" "How will you manage to get it?" "I'll have something... I'll ask Rowena what's the best complaint: headaches or dizziness, or feeling tired. I'll tell mother it's the heavy food, and mother'll tell him, and he'll write to Miss Bretherton. I shall eat strawberries, and watch you search for `brothers.'" Nancy stared solemnly with her long, dark eyes. "There was a girl here who tried that before--Netta Bryce. That very same dodge." "Well?" "She wished she hadn't." "Why?" "Try, and you'll find out." "Nancy, you _are_ horrid. What happened to her? Where is she now?" "Dead!" croaked Nancy, and drew the screen around her bed. After that Dreda might question as much as she liked, but she knew well that never a reply would Nancy vouchsafe. It was really most tiresome! She lay awake for a good ten minutes pondering over what _could_ have happened to Netta Bryce, and if she had died soon, and under what conditions. Nancy was really the most aggravating of creatures!