Carslake affairs, however, though much improved, were not yet progressing with the smoothness of well-oiled machinery. The fiery Peggy and her devoted satellites were frequently coming into collision with the prefects, and after one such incident, Peggy, brooding over the lines she had been set that morning, was not mistress of her temper at cricket practice in the afternoon and disputed Duane's verdict of l.b.w. against her. The head prefect's temper was also strained by the unusual amount of work she was doing just before the Richoter, and her customary imperturbable indifference was ruffled and disturbed. "I'm acting as umpire," she said sharply. "You had better get off the field if you don't agree with my decision." Peggy looked at her, flushing with resentment. "What do you mean, Duane?" "Mean? What I say. Either accept my verdict or else clear off the field." Peggy's hot flush faded. "If I go now I'll never, never play in a match again if you're captaining the team," she said, in a voice that trembled with anger and humiliation. Duane shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "Please yourself. Your services aren't indispensable," she returned, coldly. Peggy dropped her bat and walked off defiantly. Little Erica Salter, with a glance of mingled fury and reproach at Duane for treating her idol thus, rushed off the field after her retreating figure. The juniors looked at each other uncomfortably, several being obviously inclined to follow her example. Then Kitty sang out cheerily, "Come along! Who's going in next? It's my turn to bowl, and I hate wasting time, you know." The girls turned to her with relief, and for the rest of the time it was Kitty's personality which dominated the game, while Duane stood silently watching. A little later, coming down the passage in her unhurried way, Duane nearly ran into Erica. The child's face was flushed and her eyes bright. She looked very pretty and childish as she planted herself in front of the head prefect. The latter had perforce to stop too. "Why, Erica," she said, "do you want anything?" "No," replied the child, fixing her bright eyes on the tall figure of the head prefect and clenching her little hands. "Only--only to tell you that I think you're simply hateful." "And why, pray, this flattering opinion of me?" inquired Duane lazily, with a smile. "Oh, you can laugh," said Erica, stamping her foot angrily. "But I think you were simply horrid to Peggy this afternoon and I hate you for it. I hope you'll have something nasty happen to you some day, and then p'r'aps you'll be sorry you've been so nasty to other people." "Peggy will get over it all right in a day or two. She'll be quite a nice girl in a couple of years, when she's rubbed off the edges. Don't worry your head over her--or me either. Go along and play with your dolls." "Dolls!" said Erica, scornfully. "I don't play with dolls now. I'm much too big."