It was the most miserable Latin class which the girls ever remembered. Each one was afraid to construe well, for fear she might be suspected of having done her preparation with the aid of the translation. Miss Harper made no comments, and gave neither praise for good work nor blame for bad. She took the marks as usual, and at the end of the hour left the room without referring again to the subject. I am afraid Miss Rowe, who followed with geology, did not find her pupils particularly intelligent that morning. She was obliged several times to correct them sharply for wandering attention, and was annoyed at the many wrong answers to the questions which she asked. The girls were unable to fix their thoughts upon either glaciers or moraines; all were counting the minutes until lunch-time, when they could rush from the room to discuss the burning question of the ownership of the translation. As Patty walked down the passage at eleven o'clock to the pantry, she noticed Vera Clifford nudge Kitty Harrison and whisper something she could not hear. Most of the girls were collected in a little group near the door, talking eagerly, and some of them looked curiously at her as she passed. "I don't believe it!" cried Enid's indignant voice. "It's quite untrue and impossible!" "You'll never persuade me, not if you try all day," said Winnie. "She always gets such good marks for her Caesar," said Maggie Woodhall, doubtfully. "Well, she told me herself it was a secret how she did it," declared Beatrice Wynne. "She said she couldn't explain it, and wouldn't if she could, and if we knew we might all do it equally well. Could anything be clearer than that?" "And the initials were P. H., for Patty Hirst!" added Ella Johnson. Patty, as she took her lunch, could not help overhearing what was said by the group round the door. At first she did not quite understand the drift of the conversation, but at Ella's remark a light suddenly dawned upon her. Putting down her glass of milk, she turned abruptly to the others. "Girls," she cried, "surely you can't suspect me of owning that wretched 'crib'?" "Then whose is it if it's not yours?" asked Beatrice Wynne. "I don't know, any more than you. But one thing's certain, I've had nothing to do with it. Why, I wouldn't have soiled my fingers by touching it!" "How about the initials?" enquired Ella Johnson, with a touch of sarcasm in her voice. "I don't know. It never occurred to me till this minute that you could connect my name with them." "It's a funny coincidence," sneered Vera Clifford. "I suppose the book must have been brought to school by somebody," said Kitty Harrison. "It was not brought by me," said Patty. "I've no means of proving anything, but I've always been called truthful at home, and I think my word ought to hold good at The Priory too." "Then whom does it belong to?" persisted Kitty. "Do you know anything at all about it?"