Her dismay was too much for one at least on the other side of the partition. Rona broke into a loud, cackling laugh. One swift glance upwards and Stephanie realized that she was the victim of a practical joke. It took her exactly three seconds to reach the next cubicle. "So it's you, is it?" she exploded. "Well, Ulyth Stanton, I am astonished! Evil communications corrupt good manners, and yours smack of the backwoods." "Don't throw it on Ulyth; she knew nothing about it," retorted the chuckling Cuckoo belligerently. "It's my business, and I don't mind telling you so!" "I might have known, you--you utter cad! You don't deserve to be in a school among ladies!" "Go on. Pitch it as strong as you like. The cub's quits with you now for all your airs and your nastiness." "Oh, don't!" protested Ulyth, interfering in much distress. "Rona, do stop! I'd no idea you meant to play such a dreadful trick on Stephie." "You must have known something of it, or you wouldn't have come to look on. I expect you were at the bottom of it," sneered Stephanie; "so don't try to sneak out of it, Ulyth Stanton. Your precious joke has marked me for life." "No, no! It's only cochineal and milk. I got it from the cook," put in the Cuckoo. "It's stained her face all over, though," said Beth Broadway reproachfully. "I shall go straight to Miss Bowes," whimpered Stephanie. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Ulyth. "Try some methylated spirit first. I'll give you some from my room." The remedy proved efficacious. The stains yielded to gentle rubbing, and the four girls flew in a wild hurry to make their beds, three much relieved and one naughtily exultant. "I've paid out Stephie," panted Rona, tucking in her blankets anyhow. "I felt proud of that letter. Made it up with the help of advertisements in the _Illustrated Journal_. Then I typed it in the study while Teddie was out. You didn't know I could type? Learnt how on the voyage, from a girl who'd a typewriter on board with her. I laid on the butter pretty thick. I knew Steph would swallow it to any amount. Oh, didn't she just look flattered? It was prime! The under-housemaid posted the parcel for me." "Stephie'll never forgive you!" "Much I care!" CHAPTER VII The Cuckoo's Progress "Your bear cub still needs taming, Ulyth," said Gertrude Oliver. "She spilt her coffee this morning--such a mess on the tablecloth! I wish I didn't sit next to her. I felt like Alice at the March Hare's tea-party." "It was half Maud's fault; she jerked her elbow," pleaded Ulyth in extenuation. "Oh, you can't whitewash her, so don't try! I won't say she isn't better than when she arrived, but there's room for improvement." "She's much slimmer. I suppose it must have been the voyage that had made her grow so fat in September." "I wish, at any rate, you could get her out of using those dreadful backwoods expressions. It's high time she dropped them. She's been here nearly a full term."