"Are you worried?" she asked sympathetically, selecting a euphemism at random. "My dear, I've got an awful fear that Delmege means to move into this room when you're gone. You'll see if she doesn't get round the new Superintendent. She's always resented being put in with two others, and that room of theirs will always be a three-bedded one." "But Tony and Miss Plumtree are both leaving." "Not yet, and, anyway, two others will be put in instead. Mark my words," said Miss Marsh tragically, "that'll be the next thing. Delmege and me stuck in here _tête-à-tête_, as they say." "I do hope not." "I shall resign, that's all. Simply resign. _And_ give my reasons. I shall say to Miss Vivian right out, when she asks me why I want to leave--" "But she never does ask why any one wants to leave. Besides, you know you wouldn't leave for such a ridiculous reason as that." "Well, perhaps I wouldn't! After all, I should be sorry to think I couldn't get the better of Delmege, when all's said and done. I've a very good mind to tell her quite plainly that if she's got her eye on that corner bed she'll have to come to an understanding with me first, both as to the use of the screen and who's to make tea in the morning and turn the gas out at night. I've heard tales about Delmege's trick of getting into bed in a hurry and leaving everybody else to do the work. And she and I have had words before now." "I know you have," said Grace. "Perhaps that may prevent her from wanting to come here." Miss Marsh looked gloomy, and then bounded up as a tap sounded on the door. "What did I tell you? I'll take any bet you like that's Delmege nosing round now. I know the way she swishes her petticoat--such swank, wearing a silk one under uniform! Well, I'm not going to interfere with her." Miss Marsh bounced behind her screen. "Come in," Grace called. "Say I'm undressing," Miss Marsh issued a whispered command. Miss Delmege stepped elegantly into the room, her favourite "fawn" _peignoir_ chastely gathered round her. "You alone, dear?" "No, she isn't. I'm undressing," said a sharp voice behind the screen. Miss Delmege ignored the voice, and laid a patronizingly affectionate hand upon Grace's shoulder. "What thick hair you have, dear! Quite a work brushing it, I should think. Now, mine is so long that it's never had time to get really thick, though I know you wouldn't guess it to look at it, but that's the way it grows. As a child I used to have a perfect mass. Mother always used to say about me, 'That child Vera's strength has all gone into her hair, every bit of it.' It used to make her quite anxious, to see me without a bit of colour in my face and this great mass of hair." "What made it all fall out, Delmege?" came incisively from behind the screen. Miss Delmege tossed the long attenuated plait of straight fair hair which hung artlessly over one shoulder, and simulated deafness.