"The very worst." Her voice was tragic. "It's the only punishment we get. You see, it's not like any school. It's run on University lines. Just lectures you're supposed to attend and if you don't it's your lookout--you get ploughed in the Exams. But for any serious, big offence your name is written in the Black Book. And after a third entry (which rarely happens) you're 'sent down'--that is, expelled." "Phew...!" McTaggart whistled. "May I ask how many times you've managed to get yourself inscribed?" "Twice." The girl's face was grave. "It's bad luck, isn't it? And the other day at ancient history I very nearly was nabbed again!" She paused for a moment to turn the collar of her coat up round her ears. Her eyes above the gray fur shone like stars in the frosty air. "We got a new Professor last term; rather young, just down from Oxford. I don't think..." she smiled mischievously--"he _quite_ understands girls. It isn't like a school, you see. We're rather keen on that idea. We don't mind hard work or a man who insists on our attention. But the Professor thought it funny to--well, to patronize, you know. He used to be satirical and make allowance for female brains. Just as if we weren't as sharp--and sharper, too, than a pack of boys! He had bright ginger hair and a brand-new cap and gown--rather a 'nut'!"--McTaggart roared--"with a drawly sort of 'superior' voice. Well, Judy Seton----" Jill broke off--"she's a pal of mine--a splendid girl, always up to sport--arrived one day just before his lecture and handed round envelopes. Inside was a card and stitched to it was a little curl cut off a door-mat--one of those ginger ones, you know. It's woolly stuff, but exactly the shade of the Professor's Titian glory! "Underneath it she had written--'In fond memory'--and below--'R.I.P. The Oxford man--ah!' "We were all in the class-room ready for lecture and some girl had a box of pins. So it ended in our fastening the love-locks over our hearts! "Well, presently my Lord arrives, in his brand-new cap and gown with his sheaf of notes, and mounts the platform, very suave and very bored. "And the first thing that he did--you'd never believe it!--was to run his hand smoothly across his head. "'He's missing them!' Judy whispered, and, of course, we all went off at that. We daren't laugh out aloud, but there we were, giggling hopelessly, while the Professor glared at us. "He started in his most sarcastic voice: