She was willing enough thus to help to earn her salt, but the unfortunate part was that the extra work made serious inroads upon her time. Her new dormitory duties took a large slice out of each evening, and no allowances were made in class for the fact that her hours of preparation were curtailed She resented the injustice of being reproached for badly learnt lessons, when she had been busy the night before washing the hair of her little charges, copying some notes for Miss Lindsay, sorting music, filling inkpots, and stitching fresh braid on Miss Poppleton's skirt. The mistresses did not really mean to impose upon Gipsy, but having been told to make the girl of use, it was so easy to hand over all the tiresome extra things for her to do, and completely to forget that an accumulation of trifles may make a large sum. It never struck anybody that Gipsy's legs could grow weary with constantly running up and down stairs, or that she preferred tennis to darning and croquet to brushing children's coats; all were supremely busy with their own concerns; and though Miss Edith sometimes noticed that she looked tired, loyalty to Miss Poppleton forbade the least interference. So Gipsy plodded away, with a grim determination to do her best, and not to give in under any circumstances whatsoever. She was much too proud to make complaints to her friends, even if they could have helped her, and met their compassion for her non-appearance at the tennis courts with an assumption of indifference. "I can't get at Gipsy nowadays!" said Hetty Hancock to Dilys Fenton. "She seems quite changed this term, since Poppie's made her into a kind of pupil teacher. It's as if there were a barrier suddenly set up between us." "So there is--a barrier of her own making," sighed Dilys. "I've tried to get across it myself, and I can't. The fact is, Gipsy's about the proudest girl in the school, and she's eating her heart out at finding herself in this queer position. She's neither exactly a pupil, nor a teacher, nor a monitress, nor anything: indeed, Poppie treats her more as a servant; sometimes she absolutely wipes her boots on her! Gipsy's like a princess sold into slavery! She's taking it hardly, but she won't let it crush her spirit. I think she feels so sore, she can't even bear our sympathy." "I wish we could do something," groaned Hetty. "Nothing would be of any use, unless you could find her father. I'm afraid, myself, he must be dead." "She's fighting a battle against fearful odds," said Hetty, shaking her head. "She's keeping her self-respect when most girls would have given way utterly. I suppose there's nothing to be done but just look on and admire her pluck. I should like to speak my mind to Poppie sometimes!" "You'd do Gipsy no good, I'm afraid." "I wonder Miss Edith doesn't stand up more for her."