"Oh, Gwen, you've got me in a corner!" protested Lesbia. "I didn't mean to tell a soul about it, except Kitty Macpherson! Well, if you must know, this is what happened. One day Kitty brought a copy of _The Gentlewoman's World_ to school. It had a beauty competition in it, and she urged me to try my luck, so I sent up my photo--that one which Aunt Violet had taken of me when I was staying at Greylands. It actually won a prize, and the magazine sent me a postal order for ten and sixpence. I didn't dare to tell any of you at home, because I knew you'd all think me so terribly vain and conceited. Beatrice is fearfully down on me for that kind of thing, and I knew the boys would tease, and call me 'Proudie' and 'Madam Conceit'." Gwen laughed long and heartily. She did not tell her little sister of the unjust suspicion she had for a short time harboured against her. The whole affair was so exactly like Lesbia, from the competing for a beauty prize to the careless taking of wrong change. "How will you explain your new tennis racket?" she enquired. "Beatrice will ask where you got the money to buy it." "I never thought of that. I suppose I shall have to confess, then, and be labelled 'Miss Vanity'," sighed Lesbia. "It's a ripping racket, Gwen. It's exactly the same that Kitty Macpherson has. I'll lend it to you whenever you want it. Are you cross with me for not telling you before?" "No, dear; it wasn't such a fearful crime after all," returned Gwen, half sighing, for Lesbia's secret seemed so much more innocent a one than her own had been. CHAPTER XXI Retribution Gwen took back the sovereign next morning to Netta, who received it with amazing coolness. "An unexpected blessing," she remarked. "I'd put that sov. down as a bad debt. Better late than never. We're quits now, Gwen Gascoyne." "Not altogether," returned Gwen. "I've set my part straight, but you've still got the credit for my essay. You haven't put that to rights." "Catch me telling!" laughed Netta. "No, my good Gwen, that's a little too much to ask. Don't expect more than you're likely to get, and then you won't be disappointed. I'm afraid I must still consider Mr. Thomas Carlyle my special property. You really can't eat your cake and have it." "That's exactly what you're doing," retorted Gwen. "You took my essay, and now you've got the sovereign as well." "But I helped you out of a temporary difficulty. You forget that, and don't show as much gratitude as you might." "Not much cause for gratitude," grunted Gwen. "This is what comes of being too philanthropic. I won't help anybody out of scrapes again. One never gets thanked for it." "Not when you give your help on such terms."