CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. For the next few days conversation circled incessantly round the subject of the forthcoming literary competition, concerning which there were naturally many diverging opinions. "My life, indeed! _Well_, my first principle has always been `One thing at a time, and that done well.' I'm cramming for an exam., and have no time to waste on meanderings," declared Barbara, whose compositions invariably received the lowest marks in her form, while Nancy smiled her enigmatical smile, and stared mysteriously into space. "I shall write it, of course, but I shall not put in my _real_ sentiments. It would not be fair to my future. If my plans are to succeed they demand secrecy--breathless, inviolate secrecy, until the hour arrives!" "Gracious, Nancy! You talk as if you were an Anarchist in disguise!" gasped a horrified voice from the far corner of the fireside round which the girls were assembled, whereupon the gratified Nancy endeavoured to look more mysterious than ever. "Why in disguise? Is there anything in my appearance which is out of keeping with a life of noble rebellion against tyranny and oppression? A bomb may be often a blessing in disguise, but there is so much narrow prejudice and ignorance in this world that people must be trained to appreciate the true meaning. Till that hour arrives my life's ambition must remain locked within my own breast!" "I haven't got one--at least, only to have a good time and be done with work. You couldn't put _that_ in an essay. It sounds so mean," confessed blue-eyed Flora with a sigh. Dreda looked at her quickly, and as quickly averted her eyes. Put in bald language was not that her own ambition also? In thinking over the essay, she had mentally rehearsed many grandiose phrases; but now, with a sudden chilling of the blood, she realised the emptiness of the high-sounding words. What had she ever wished from life but pleasure, approbation, and easy success? How much thought had she given to possible trials and difficulties? How much effort to train herself for the battle of life? It was one of those blinding moments of self-revelation which come to us all, and before which the noblest natures shrink aghast. Dreda leant her head against the wall to hide herself from the dancing firelight, but her unusual silence could not fail to attract attention, and Norah was quick with a gibing question. "Why so silent, Etheldreda the Ready? Can it be that you have been so busy arranging the lives of other people that you have not had time to think of your own?" The dart struck home once more, but before there was time to answer Susan rushed to the defence. "It's just because Dreda _is_ thinking that she does not talk. Dreda will win the prize. No one has a chance against her, but it is such a thrilling subject that it will be interesting to try. The difficulty will be to keep within the limit; only three thousand words--"