Geraldine French and Olga Hunter, their two opponents, were renowned players in the school, and very few of the lookers-on expected the Fifth to have any chance at all. "I'm afraid we'll lose!" sighed Edith Arnold. "Oh, we won't give up too soon!" declared Elspeth Frazer. "Geraldine is in form to-day, certainly, and Olga is serving swifter than I've ever known her before, but we haven't proved yet what Hilda and Gwen are capable of." It was Olga's serve. She sent one of her famous invincible balls, which hardly rose from the ground, and Gwen missed it. A suppressed cheer rose from the adherents of the Sixth. Gwen clenched her teeth hard, and watched for the next ball with the expression of a Red Indian. It skimmed over the net as swiftly as its predecessor, but Gwen was prepared this time, and returned it. "Well played!" cried the Fifth ecstatically. All four champions were on their mettle, and the fight that ensued was of the keenest. Gwen was not a graceful player, but, as her friends observed, she seemed capable of being everywhere at once, she was so extremely lithe and quick. "Very good! Excellent!" were the remarks that passed round at certain of the strokes. "I'd no idea Gwen had it in her!" commented Miss Trent. In spite of Gwen's exertions the first game fell to the Sixth. They were heartily clapped, and the Fifth began to look rather blue. Each side now played with extreme caution. They had taken one another's measure, and knew what they had to expect. Hilda Browne kept her nerve well, and her serves were acknowledged to be what the girls called "clinchers". As for Gwen, her arms seemed elastic. This time the Sixth were beaten, and the Fifth began to breathe. "It would be just too ripping if we really won!" exclaimed Betty Brierley. "We mustn't crow too soon, we're not out of the wood yet," returned Irene Platt. The excitement had risen to high-water mark. Some of the school were for the Sixth, and some for the Fifth, and their rival claims were discussed eagerly. "Try and think you don't mind, and then you'll be far less nervous," whispered Hilda to Gwen. Gwen nodded. She had almost passed the stage of nervousness. "We can't do better than our best," she replied. Perhaps Olga and Geraldine were nervous too; they made one or two bad strokes which seemed to put them out considerably. Gwen, on the contrary, surpassed herself. Never in her life before had she played so well. She seemed able to take every ball in whatever awkward spot it landed. Thanks largely to her ubiquity, the set ended in the triumph of the Fifth. A tremendous clapping and cheering ensued. For three years the Sixth had held the trophy, so it was indeed an honour to have won it from their possession. Gwen and Hilda were absolutely feted by their Form, and even the vanquished Sixth had the magnanimity to praise their play.