"It's not fair!" raged Ardiune. "Ma'm'selle knows she ought to stop at half-past!" urged Magsie in injured tones. "It's taking a mean advantage!" echoed Muriel. "And we can't really work properly when she goes on so long!" wailed Maudie. "I vote we strike!" suggested Morvyth fiercely. "Let's tell her we won't go in for the exam. at all, if she goes on lengthening out the lessons." Several of the Form brightened up at the suggestion, but Aveline, a shade more practical, shook her head discouragingly. "If we do, there'll be a fine old row! The Mosquito'll appeal to the Bumble, who'd have her back up directly. I think we'd better not try that on. We don't want to take home 'conduct disgraceful' in our reports." "Ave's right," agreed Raymonde. "We know the Bumble! This is a matter for tact, not brute force. We must manage Mademoiselle. She pretends she forgets the time--very well, then, we must take steps to bring it palpably to her notice. Will you leave the matter in my hands? I've got an idea." Raymonde's inspirations were so well known in the Form, that the rest willingly consented to appoint her as a sub-committee of one to undertake the full management of the affair. Before the next French class she made a tour of the monitresses' bedrooms. They had instituted an early-rising society among themselves this term, and almost everyone was provided with an alarum-clock. Raymonde boldly borrowed five of these, without asking leave of their owners, and set them all carefully for 12.30, winding them up to their fullest extent. She then placed them inside the book cupboard in the class-room, and covered them with some sheets of exercise paper. The lesson proceeded even more painfully than usual. Ardiune got hopelessly mixed between indefinite pronouns and indefinite pronominal adjectives, and Fauvette floundered over the negations, while Muriel found the proper placing of the _p_'s and _l_'s in the conjugation of _appeler_ an impossible problem. As 12.30 drew near, there was much glancing at wrist-watches. Mademoiselle kept her eyes persistently turned away from the clock, with the evident intention of once more ignoring the time. This morning, however, Fate, in the person of Raymonde, had been against her. Exactly at the half-hour five alarums started punctually inside the cupboard, raising such a din that it was impossible to hear a word. Mademoiselle flew to investigate, took them out, shook them, and laid them on their backs, but they were wound up to their fullest extent, and nothing short of a hammer would have stopped them. The noise was terrific.