"He was rather; I think he needn't have been so bad considering the French and we are allies for evermore," Joey said. "He's only French-Swiss; daresay he can't be as nice as pure French," Noreen suggested soothingly. "Anyhow, Ingrid has settled him up--she can tackle any professor born: you should see her with our literature prof: disagrees with him and that sort of thing. All the same, it was a mean shame to have you on about the Lab, Jocelyn; I was really rather sorry about it afterwards--only, you know, you were so uppish about the bath." The shivers had practically subsided; Joey felt happier. "I know; I shouldn't do that again." "I don't blame you for getting something off us when you had the chance," Noreen observed, with an effort after fair play. "Good-night, Jocelyn: I hope you'll be all right now." "Good-night, Noreen; thanks ever so." Joey went to sleep at last, with an idea in her mind that some at least of the girls at Redlands were better than they seemed. * * * * * No one could think how a girl who had arrived perfectly well at four o'clock yesterday, could manage to develop such a frightful crying cold as Joey brought to breakfast next morning. Miss Lambton commented upon it; her neighbors at breakfast commented upon it with less concern and more candour; Matron commented upon it quite severely, while sticking a thermometer that tasted of carbolic into Joey's unwilling mouth, in the hall. Noreen was hovering near. "Please I expect that bed by the door has a draught or something," she suggested. "Shall I change with her? I don't mind really." "Rubbish about a draught," Matron answered briskly. "There is just as much draught by a window. But you can change beds if you both like--only it's not to be a precedent." Matron's urbanity was possibly due to the fact that Joey had been proved to have no temperature, and therefore could not be convicted of the heinous crime of sickening for measles, "flu," or chicken-pox. "Keep a sports-coat on all day in the house, and you are not to stand about when the ground is wet, or stay out after four," she said, with authority. "You can run away now, but be careful. You must have done something really silly to get a cold like that." "Come and change the beds," whispered Noreen, and the two ran up to Blue Dorm together. "Look here, it's jolly decent of you, but it doesn't matter about changing, really," Joey blurted out. Noreen grinned engagingly. "You silly cuckoo, don't you see I want to bag your tip of 'First Bath.'" But Joey knew that wasn't the real reason; she began to like Noreen. CHAPTER VII THE VIOLET HANDKERCHIEF A select committee consisting of Ingrid Latimer, Freda Martin, Joan Chichester, and Miss Lambton, the assistant games-mistress, tried the new girls for hockey that afternoon, playing them with a selection from the second hockey-team.