There was a general laugh, but Nancy was a favourite despite her teasing ways, so the laughter was good-tempered and sympathetic, and it was easy to see that if by chance the prize fell to her lot the award would be a popular one. Nancy was incurably lazy, but the conviction lingered in the minds of her companions that "she could be clever if she chose," and it would seem quite in character that she should suddenly wake up to the surprise and confusion of her competitors. Dreda looked round with an anxious air, as if recognising a new, and formidable competitor. She determined to begin making notes that very evening, and asked suddenly: "Has anyone seen my stylo? My things seem to be bewitched nowadays. They are always disappearing. I searched for my French book for a solid hour yesterday, and this morning it was my penknife, and now it's the pen--I waste half my time hunting and searching." "You are so untidy. If you would be more methodical--" "I didn't ask for moral reflections, Barbara. I asked for my pen." "Is it a black one? A little stumpy black one--about so long?" "Yes--yes! That's it. Have you seen it, Nancy?" Nancy stroked her chin with a meditative air. "I _did_ see a stylo somewhere! I remember noticing it--a very nice one. Quite new." "Yes--yes; that's it. Where was it? Do think, Nancy! Cudgel your brains." "I am cudgelling them--I'm cudgelling _hard_." Nancy nipped her chin between her finger and thumb, and knitted her brows till her eyebrows appeared to meet. "I saw it this morning. It was lying on a shelf, near a window. I can see it before me now." She waved her hand in the air. "Like a picture. Distinctly!" "Yes--yes--yes! But where? _Think_! In the big classroom?" "No-o; I think not. No; certainly not the big classroom?" "Miss Drake's room, then? The study? Number 5? Our bedroom? If you can see it distinctly, you _must_ know." Nancy frowned on, apparently plunged in thought, then slowly a flash seemed to irradiate her features. "I have it!" she cried triumphantly. "It was in the window of the chemist's shop! I saw it as we passed by in walk.--A beautiful black brand-new stylo!" The audience sniggered with enjoyment, for though not quite so heartless as their brothers, it cannot be denied that most school-girls take a mischievous delight in teasing their companions. Dreda Saxon was, moreover, from this point of view an amusing victim, for when a joke was directed against herself her sense of humour was temporarily eclipsed, and she took refuge in what was laughingly dubbed "heroics." Now, as usual, her eyes flashed, her chin tilted itself in air, and her voice swelled in deep-toned reproof. "That is not funny, Nancy--it is _unkind_! To laugh at people who are in trouble is a sign of a mean, unprincipled mind. I am surprised that you condescend to such depths."