Miss Marlowe, who remains in the background in this story, but whom we must never forget, sits in the midst of South House like some omniscient and benevolent providence, decided that something must be done to stop these mischievous wagging tongues, so she summoned her prefects and said frankly: "A little bird has told me something about these anonymous letters. I know they are very trivial and silly, but when one girl begins to be accused by the others, it is time to clean up the matter. From what I know of Sally May, I cannot believe that she has written them. Don't tell me anything more about it. I leave it to you; please do your best to get them stopped." And she left them to solve the puzzle. The prefects held a meeting at once and decided that the matter was not serious enough to call a special house meeting. Such meetings called and addressed by the captain were held on very special occasions, and this--"Well, this is _too_ silly," said Patricia Caldwell, giggling. "Poor Cathy! its a pity you are so bewitching. I don't know how you will manage your affairs after you leave school," she added teasingly. "I'm afraid the morning papers will have to devote front-page space to the duels fought in Miss Catherine Ellison's honour." Catherine could stand being chaffed by her peers and equals, but she really hated the gossip of the younger girls. It was decided that every prefect was to keep ears and eyes open and report to Eleanor anything suspicious. A special watch was to be kept on the mail-box. Two prefects were to make it their business to saunter past the box whenever they could and keep an eye on pigeon-hole "S." Perhaps they might catch the criminal at the box. There was much laughter about it, and with the exception of Catherine they rather enjoyed the importance and the mystery. They realized, however, that so much gossiping was bad for the tone of the house. "It must be stopped." CHAPTER X JUDITH PLAYS DETECTIVE WHILE the prefects were sitting in solemn conclave, Judith at her desk, writing to her mother, found that the story of the week's doings centred about Genevieve and the mysterious letter. "She is hard to describe, Mummy," she wrote; "she isn't exactly pretty, but her face changes so often when she is talking that she is interesting to listen to. She doesn't play many games and I don't see very much of her, but you remember I told you how clever she was as Malvolio in 'Twelfth Night.' She acts awfully well and she just loves doing it. And she's always getting frightfully fond of somebody and feeling badly if they don't like her." Judith sat rolling her pen absent-mindedly up and down her blotter as the picture of Genevieve filled her mind. Perhaps it was a matter of "thinking of angels and hearing their wings"; at any rate, just at this moment, Genevieve, returning from a fruitless attempt to catch Catherine in her room, knocked at Judith's door.