"I say! wouldn't it be rather a rag to put Jocelyn--Joey, I mean--up to some perfectly awful French that would take half the lesson to correct?" suggested Noreen, of the fertile brain. "Then _we'd_ get a rest." "Brainy plan," approved Barbara. "But would you mind, Joey? You can't get into a row, you see, because she can't know if you really know any French or not; she'll only just point out to you where you're wrong, in the kind of tone which implies that they wouldn't keep idiots of your kind in France at any price, and you'll have to say, '_Merci bien_,' or is it '_Beaucoup_'?--I never can remember which--and '_Je comprends_', or is it '_C'est comprenné_'?--one _does_ get out in the hols!--at proper intervals, and look intelligent----" "Never mind if it's a bit of a strain," Noreen contributed, and Joey, having a shoe all ready in her hand, not unnaturally hurled it at the speaker. Noreen dodged, and it got the window, and made a huge star. "My Sunday hat and Dublin Castle!" Noreen exclaimed, craning round from her seat on the bed to examine the mischief. "You've gone and done it now, Joey--at least it was most my fault really. I'll tell Matron that." "Rot! I threw the shoe," Joey said, rather dismayed. "I don't mind about Matron; she can't do much worse than the ghastly stuff she's been giving me--at least I hope she doesn't stop the beastly window out of my pocket-money?" "No; they don't do that sort of thing here," Noreen said. "They just hold forth, and tell you carelessness is a sort of dishonesty and that sort of thing. You'll have to say you're sorry." "Well, I am." "And Matron will point out you've behaved like a kindergarten kid, and if she were Tiddles she wouldn't be surprised at your wanting to throw your shoes about. Comprenny?" "Righto--I shall stick it," Joey assured her. "They don't nag here--much," added the experienced Noreen for her comfort; "when you've been jawed or punished or both, it's over and done with. What about the French? Think you could do anything?" "I might try," Joey said, with caution. "But there won't be time now to put her up to it all," objected Barbara. "Why didn't we think of it earlier?" "Why not let Joey, as she's new, try it on some other way?" put in Noreen. "Ask Maddy something that means a long screed in answer. Oh yes, I know she squashed me flat for doing it, but that was ages back, and she knew me and my reputation. Now here's a nice, innocent, and probably good, new girl." "Don't call me names!" interrupted Joey. "I said _probably_; well, try and turn Maddy on, in all innocence and ignorance, my child, and the Form will love you for evermore. We are always absolutely stuck for subjects the first French day of term." The prayer-bell rang insistently. "What would she _like_ to talk about, do you think?" asked Joey desperately, catching at Noreen's sleeve; "the War?"