So, strange to say, it was France who was the hero of the occasion. She found it decidedly a pleasant sensation, and began to plume herself complacently, remarking in a confidential tone to the other seniors: "You know, I always did rather fancy myself as a winger at hockey, if only it weren't such a waste of time using all one's spare minutes just to play a game." "And that's where you're going to play in future," said Duane firmly. "A girl who can sprint like you can is wasted anywhere else. We'll make it a fair bargain. You come to practices regularly and we'll pose for your blessed Academy pictures, or National Gallery portraits, whichever it happens to be. I'll even," she ended, in a burst of generosity, "come now and again and blow your organ for you when Orpheus is indisposed." France eyed her study-companion reflectively. "If you can summon up enough energy to come and blow the organ, I'll play in all the house matches; so there," she declared. The results of Sports Day had certainly improved matters at Carslake's. There was no open rebellion against the head prefect's rule, though now and again there were little unpleasant moments which showed that the house would never quite forget the fact that their head prefect's reputation had a deep and ineradicable stain on it. There was not the same cheerful alacrity displayed in obeying Duane's wishes as in obeying those of the other Sixth-formers; obedience was shown, but it was a grudging obedience and would probably never be anything different. The following evening Duane was alone in her study, seated in her favourite attitude--that is to say, leaning in the depths of an easy-chair with her feet across another chair--when Kitty entered. "Hallo! What is it?" inquired Duane, looking up from her book. "I hope I'm not disturbing you," said Kitty, politely. "Not at all. I'm only finishing off that wretched paraphrasing set us for prep. Couldn't get it done before." There was a pause till Kitty recollected she had not yet explained the reason for her visit. "Oh, by the way, France told me you had something to say to me. That's why I looked in." "Oh, I see. It's nothing of much importance. Any time would have done. I thought, until Hilary returns, you might as well dig in here with France and me. It's lonely having a room all on your own." Kitty flushed in surprise. "Oh, but I don't mind that. I don't want to cause you any inconvenience." "Not at all. There's heaps of room for three here, if we clear some of France's litter." Kitty looked uncomfortable. "Was it you or France who thought of this?" "Does it matter who thought of it?" returned Duane, carelessly. Kitty was silent again, feeling still more uncomfortable. "Thanks all the same," she said, at last, "but I don't think I will." "Why not?" Duane, not unnaturally, wanted to know. Kitty felt herself turning crimson and blurted out, "Well, you see, it might be rather awkward." "Awkward? How?"