"She'll be chosen all the same, you'll see. There really isn't anybody else. When Lily Anderson left last term, she certainly thought Vivien was going to be her successor. She showed her how to keep all the books of the Clubs and Guilds, so that she could slide into the work easily. And Vivien's such a sport at hockey, too!" "Um! I don't know. She has such a jolly good opinion of her own cleverness, but the question is whether Miss Kingsley exactly shares it or not. Hello! Hold me up! Here comes the Duchess herself, as large as life!" The girl who advanced briskly from the rhododendron walk would have been good looking, but she was spoilt by a rather rabbity mouth and large teeth. Her complexion was clear, her brown eyes were bright, and her auburn hair was abundant. She held herself with the confidence of one who has so far found life an unqualified success. In her wake followed a little train of courtiers: Sybil Snow, Nellie Appleby, Mona Parker, Phœbe Gibson, and Adelaide Brookfield, all eager sycophants craving her favour, and doing their utmost to ingratiate themselves. "I tell you I can't promise anything!" Vivien was saying. "Naturally the head of the school has the power to appoint any secretaries she likes, but it'll be time enough to decide these things afterwards. I wish you wouldn't bother me so! There'll be a proper Committee meeting on Friday to arrange the Societies, and you must just wait till then." "But if anybody speaks to you about it in the meantime, you'll remember it's the Dramatic I'm keenest on?" urged Phœbe plaintively. "I tell you again, I can't promise--but--well, I'll do my best for you, at any rate." "What's this about the Dramatic?" broke in Dorothy Skipton, who, arm in arm with Patsie Sullivan, had joined the group. "Do you mean to say you're arranging the Societies beforehand? Really, Vivien Forrester, of all cool cheek I call this the very limit! Who said _you_ were going to be head girl, I should like to know?" Two red spots flared into Vivien's cheeks. "Nobody said so!" she retorted. "Certainly _I_ didn't, though I dare say I've as good a chance as anybody else. I don't see why you need catch me up like this." "Little bit tall to be promising posts till you're certain you're top dog!" laughed Patsie. "Old Dorothy may be the lucker instead of you. _Me?_ Rather not! I can hardly flatter myself after my career last term that I'd be chosen as pattern pupil and pitchforked into the post of honour to set a good example to the rest of the school. Do I _look_ the part, now?" The others, surveying Patsie's humorous face and twinkling grey eyes, broke into a universal chuckle. "Well, it's hardly your line, exactly!" admitted Vivien. "Why, if you confiscated surreptitious sweets from the kids, you'd probably eat them before their indignant faces, and give them a tip on how to hide them more carefully in future. I know you!"