Joey gulped the ammoniated quinine with a haste that brought tears to her eyes; but still Matron did not go. She was inspecting Joey's garments with a searching eye to see that she was wearing enough of them. Noreen, Barbara, and Syb had reached the hair-ribbon stage before Matron had finished pointing out the need of another vest; and she was still mentioning kindly but firmly that it was generally a girl's own fault if she caught a cold, when the bell rang, and it was too late. Joey could almost have cried. A maid brought her a strictly invalid supper--a cup of bread and milk and a spongecake. Rather unexciting. Joey made it last as long as possible, but that wasn't very long. Then there was nothing left to do but wait till the rest came to bed. The advantage of having a window bed was not specially apparent just now, because there was no moon and the fen-world was quite dark. Not even the shadowy outline of the high round tower was to be seen. Joey lay mournfully in bed, and wished for a book. If the girls danced again after supper it would be quite nine o'clock before they came upstairs, and it hadn't struck eight yet. More than a whole long hour to wait, doing nothing. And then, just as she was thinking that, the door of Blue Dorm opened, and Gabrielle put her head in. Joey could see her auburn hair against the light in the passage; the room itself was dark, the maid having turned off the electric light when she took the supper tray. "Are you sleepy, Jocelyn? Or would you like me to come in and talk?" she asked. "Oh, do come in--I'm fearfully tired of bed," Joey burst out--"that is, if you don't want to be dancing?" Gabrielle shut the door, and felt her way over to the one occupied bed. "I'd rather talk----" Somebody rushed at the door, turned the handle violently, and dashed in. "Hullo, Jocelyn, ready for some company?" demanded a cheerful and familiar voice. Gabrielle switched on the light, and she and Noreen O'Hara looked at one another. "Oh--you've come to sit with Jocelyn, have you?" Noreen said. "Then I'd better clear out." "Look here, why shouldn't we both stay?" suggested Gabrielle. "Don't know why we shouldn't," Noreen agreed. "Mind, Jocelyn?" "Rather not." "Only, there's one thing I want to say to you which Gabrielle can't hear--it isn't my secret," Noreen explained hurriedly. "Shall I get out?" Gabrielle asked. "No--stick your fingers in your ears a sec, if you don't mind." Gabrielle obliged. Noreen plumped down on Joey's bed. "It's this--Syb and Barbara asked me to tell you they're sorry they were such beasts to you last night--and they think you a sport not to have let on to Ingrid." "Did they say that?" gasped Joey. "Yes, honest injun!" "Then I shan't be able to say the utterly hateful things I'd thought of for to-night," Joey murmured regretfully. "But I _was_ a pig about the bath-water, wasn't I?" "You were," Noreen agreed, with fervour.