Whereupon Sybil dissolved into tears, and confided to her nearest friend that so long as Merle Ramsay was monitress she was afraid she would never be happy at 'The Moorings.' Poor Sybil had her good points. She was generous in her own way, and rather affectionate, but nature had not endowed her with tact, and she would go blundering on, never seeing that she was making mistakes. Her very chums soon tired of her and discreetly left her to some one else. "I sometimes think she's a little bit dotty!" opined Nesta. "Nonsense! She's as sane as you or I. It's all swank! I've no particular patience with her!" said Merle. One particularly aggravating feature of Sybil was the way she traded upon rather delicate health. There was really nothing much the matter with her, but she sometimes had slight attacks of faintness, which, the girls declared, always came on when she thought she could be a subject of interest. She liked to extract sympathy from Miss Mitchell, or to arouse Miss Pollard's anxiety. Moreover, it was often a very good excuse for slacking off in her preparation or her practising. One afternoon Merle, coming back to school, met Miss Mitchell by the gate. "I was just looking for you!" said the teacher. "I've arranged an extra hockey practice at three, instead of English language. Will you tell the others?" This was excellent news. The Fifth hated the English Language class, which consisted mostly of learning strings of horrible derivations, and to have it cut out for once in favour of hockey was quite an event. Merle walked up the drive smirking with satisfaction. By the porch she found Sybil, with an English language book in one hand, half-heartedly helping Miss Fanny, who was nailing up creepers. She looked very sorry for herself. "I wish you'd hold the ladder, Merle!" she sighed, eager to thrust her duties on to a substitute. "I don't feel quite well this afternoon. I get such a faintness. Aren't these derivations too awful for anything?" she added _sotto voce_. "I don't believe I know one of them." "Buck up!" whispered Merle with scant sympathy. "It's all very well to say 'buck up'! You don't know what it is to feel faint. You're as strong as a horse. I'm really not fit to stand about!" "Shall I ask Miss Fanny to let you go in and lie down?" "I wish you would! I don't like to ask her myself; it seems making such a fuss." Merle proffered the request, with which Miss Fanny, rather astonished, complied. "Certainly, Sybil, if you really are ill! Shall I give you a dose of sal volatile?" "No, thanks! I shall be all right if I can just rest on my bed," answered the plaintive voice. "I daresay you'll soon feel better. It's a pity you'll miss the hockey practice," said Merle. "What hockey practice?" "Miss Mitchell has just told me to tell everybody. We're to play instead of having English language this afternoon."