He had formed no very definite mental picture of his cousin beforehand. Little girls of fifteen years of age are not creatures of great interest to prefects who have made remarkable catches in the long field and look forward to establishing their manhood among the salmon and the grouse. So far as he had thought of Priscilla at all he had placed her in the background, a trim, unobtrusive maiden, who came down to dessert after dinner and was kept under proper control at other times by a governess. It shocked him a little to see a girl in a tousled blue cotton frock, with a green stain on the front of it, with a tangle of damp fair hair hanging round her head in shining strings, with unabashed fearless eyes which looked at him with a certain shrewd merriment. “You look wobbly,” said Priscilla. “Can’t you walk by yourself?” “I’ve met with an accident,” said Frank. “That’s all right. I was afraid just at first that you might be the sort that collapsed altogether after being seasick. Some people do, you know, and they’re never much good for anything. I’m glad you’re not one of them. Accidents are different of course. Nobody can ever be quite sure of not meeting an accident.” She glanced at the stain on the front of her dress as she spoke. It was the result of an accident. “I’ve sprained my ankle,” said Frank. “It’s my belief,” said the guard, “that the young gentleman’s leg is broke on him. That’s what the ticket-collector was after telling me at the junction any way.” “Would you like me to cut off your sock?” said Priscilla. “The station-master’s wife would lend me a pair of scissors. She’s sure to have a pair. Almost everybody has.” “No, I wouldn’t,” said Frank. There had been trouble enough in getting the sock on over the damp table napkin. He had no wish to have it taken off again unnecessarily. “All right,” said Priscilla, “I won’t if you’d rather not of course; but it’s the proper thing to do for a sprained ankle. Sylvia Courtney told me so and she attended a course of Ambulance lectures last term and learnt all about first aid on the battle-field. I wanted to go to those lectures frightfully, but Aunt Juliet wouldn’t let me. Rather rot I thought it at the time, but I saw afterwards that she couldn’t possibly on account of her principles.” Frank, following Priscilla’s rapid thought with difficulty, supposed that Ambulance lectures, dealing necessarily with the human body, might be considered by some people slightly unsuitable for young girls, and that Aunt Juliet was a lady who set a high value on propriety. Priscilla offered a different explanation. “Christian Science,” she said. “That’s Aunt Juliet’s latest. There’s always something. Can you sit on a car?” “Oh yes,” said Frank. “If I was once up I could sit well enough.” “Let you make your mind easy about getting up,” said the station-master. “We’ll have you on the side of the car in two twos.”