It was on the third day after this rebuff that Lizzie Logan covered herself with glory. Lizzie Logan, of all people in the world, the shyest girl in the form, an absolute retiring young she-hermit, who always blushed crimson when she had to answer a question, and generally scuttled out of the dressing-room in a hurry as if she did not want to walk home with anybody else, and looked scared to death if she was asked to join a game in the gymnasium. She came into school one morning carrying a local newspaper, and, after reddening up to the very roots of her hair and down to the margin of her V-shaped blouse, she handed it to Marjorie, murmuring something utterly unintelligible. "Hello, old sport! What's this for?" demanded Marjorie, opening it at a large advertisement of face powder. "Nothing doing here, thanks! I haven't gone in for titivating my complexion yet. You'll have to be content with me as nature made me. _What_ do you say? An advertisement? Why can't you speak up? Show it to me, then! Oh, _I say_! Girls, just look here! What do you think of this?" A circle at once crowded round Marjorie, peeping over her shoulder. Others, on the outer limit, denied a sight of the paper, demanded explanation. So Marjorie read the advertisement aloud: "'KINGFIELD ARCHÆOLOGICAL SOCIETY "'The Committee offers first, second, and third prizes to school pupils who shall submit the best essays on the ancient history and associations of the city. Full particulars can be obtained from the Hon. Secretary, Mr. E. Johnson, St. Gilbert's, Thorwald Street.'" "Hi cockalorum! What an absolutely jinky idea!" rejoiced Calla. "Ancient history of the city, too! That's quite in our line," purred Lesbia. "_Ra_-ther! It might have been specially made for us," triumphed Kathleen. "It was," fluttered Lizzie Logan's meek little voice. "What d'you mean, child?" demanded Marjorie. "Here, speak up! We're not going to eat you!" Lizzie's complexion turned from carnation to damask rose, and deepened into shades of pæony or even beetroot. "Well, you see," she explained, "my uncle is on the Committee of the Archæological Society, and I was telling him what we do at school on Fridays, and I said I wished there was a prize we could try for, and he said it was worth thinking about, and he'd ask the President, and last night he sent me this paper; so I brought it to show you." Lizzie finished with a kind of gasp. It was quite a long speech for her to make. Marjorie patted her encouragingly on the back. "Lizzie Logan, you're coming on. You'll be a credit to VA before we've done with you. Now I call this really public spirited. We must set to work hot and strong and see what can be done." "Lesbia, you ought to be a champion at this business." "We must all 'champ'," agreed Lesbia. "Is it a one-man-show or may we club together?" "I don't know. We'd better some of us go round to Mr. Johnson's for particulars."