the very first thing which gwen did, when winnie had given her the promised half-crown out of the prize money, was to go straight to the post office and buy a postal order for that amount and a penny stamp. she possessed a few odd coppers, but otherwise no funds had come her way for a long time, and she had been growing very uneasy about the bill which she still owed to parker's for the broken china. she now sent them the postal order, with a note saying that she hoped very soon to settle the remainder of the account, and begging them to wait a little longer. she also asked them to return her a receipt addressed "c/o miss netta goodwin, the thorns, manor road, stedburgh".

"i dare say netta'll be angry, and call it cheek on my part, but i can't help it," thought gwen. "i daren't get another letter sent to school after the rowing miss roscoe gave me, and if it comes home, beatrice will want to know who's been writing to me. it's only fair that netta should take a little of the bother on her own shoulders. she's certainly had the best of it in this affair. oh, dear, i still owe parker's ten shillings. i haven't the ghost of a notion how i'm to pay it!"

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gwen could not forgive netta for appropriating her prize essay. she still felt indignant whenever she thought about it, especially as there was always an uneasy sensation of guilt on her own part. she knew it was not a straight transaction, and poor gwen, with all her faults, loved straightness. for lack of other friendships at school she was forced into companionship with netta, but she never whole-heartedly liked her. lately, especially, netta had taken a rather high-handed tone, and was apt to order her chum about in a manner that gwen's independent spirit greatly resented. the friction between the two was sometimes hot, but neither cared to risk a quarrel, for each knew that the other, if turned into an enemy, might come out with some decidedly awkward revelations. so they went on in the old way, squabbling continually over trifles and making it up again, but on the whole ready to stand up for each other against the rest of the form. yes, alack!—the rest of the form, for gwen, in spite of her well-meant efforts, had not yet won popularity in the fifth. she had tried to be genial and sociable, but nobody seemed to want her. if she joined in a conversation, rachel hunter or edith arnold would stare at her as if they thought it great impertinence on her part to intrude herself into their concerns. they never asked her opinion, or consulted her about anything, but simply ignored her, and left her to her own devices. nearly all the girls lived in stedburgh, and their talk was often of stedburgh affairs, concerts, amateur dramatic performances, and entertainments in which gwen, living far away at skelwick, could have no possible part.

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though she sometimes got in a word about school matters, her remarks were never well received, and she was always more or less conscious of being an alien and an outsider in her form.

she tried to pretend that she did not care about the opinion of the others, but it was hard, all the same. most of us like popularity, especially when we believe we have done nothing to deserve the reverse.

"if i'd been as pretty as lesbia, they'd have made ever such a fuss over me," thought gwen. "she's the pet of her form, and the darling of all the big girls. i'd have been a beauty if i could! they never even give me a chance to be nice to them—they just leave me alone. yes, it's hard!"

but all the while, father's new year motto hung over the dressing table in her bedroom, and every morning she could not help looking at it. it seemed a stern gospel to pray for strength instead of ease, and yet it attracted her. after all, was it not a nobler conception of life to work away and not mind what people thought of you, than to be always caring whether you were popular? there was a certain joy in overcoming difficulties, and surmounting obstacles. she was already succeeding in mastering the lessons that had baffled her at first. could she ever win a place for herself in the form? it would undoubtedly seem almost a miracle if she did.

"i wonder if i should be happier at another school?" she sometimes thought. "dad spoke once of the possibility of sending me to one of the clergy daughters' schools; he said i might get a scholarship. but oh, dear! that would mean leaving home, and being a

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boarder! suppose i didn't like it any better than rodenhurst; then it would be perfectly awful to have to spend the whole term without once seeing dad or any of the others. no, i won't suggest it. i'd better stick where i am, and peg along as best i can."

gwen was a great home-bird. on the few occasions in her childhood, when she had paid visits at relations' houses, she had, after a few days, grown so intolerably homesick, and wept so hopelessly and inconsolably, that she had had to be packed back, rather in disgrace; and though she was now old enough to behave herself, she had not been asked again, nor was she very enthusiastic to receive invitations. she felt bashful, awkward, and badly dressed under the critical eyes of aunt violet or aunt christina, and much preferred the atmosphere of the parsonage, and the society of her own family. to come back every evening from school, and spend saturday and sunday at home, seemed indispensable at present, though she supposed if she went to college later on, she would have to get used to being away.

eastertide came, and brought welcome holidays. gwen helped to deck the church with daffodils, and great boughs of pink almond blossom, and bunches of sweet-smelling wallflowers. she loved the easter decorations far more than those at christmas, and this time she had rather a free hand, for beatrice was too busy to come, and gwen was allowed to do the lectern and reading desk all by herself, while winnie undertook the pulpit. she gave infinite pains to her work, and father praised the result, which was a tremendous satisfaction. to do anything for father was a joy.

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gwen often wished she could play the organ like winnie, but she was not clever at music. beatrice had made a great effort to teach her the piano, with poor success, for she was not a docile or attentive pupil, and the lessons generally involved a wrangle between the two sisters, beatrice losing her patience, and gwen arguing hotly. finally father had put a stop to the lessons altogether, on the ground that it was sheer waste of time, and gwen was better employed at something else. lesbia, however, played rather nicely; she could manage the harmonium at the sunday school, and was just beginning to practise the organ under winnie's instructions. it was the one thing lesbia did pretty well, for she did not distinguish herself at school. she was not a remarkably bright girl, and was very childish for her age. though gwen was fond of her younger sister, and petted her like everybody else, the two were not in any sense companions. lesbia was far more on a level with the little boys, and generally amused herself with giles or basil; gwen's schemes and projects were miles above her head.

the holidays, though very enjoyable, were quite uneventful. they slipped away much too swiftly, and the ordinary round of school and home work began again. it was the summer term, however, and to gwen that meant a great deal. she took up tennis with hot enthusiasm, practising both at home and at school in any time she could spare. her long arms and strong wrists stood her in good stead, and it began to be said in the form that "gwen gascoyne's play was quite decent". she mowed and rolled the

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little lawn at the parsonage vigorously, marked out the courts with a brush, and persuaded either beatrice or winnie to have a game every evening before bedtime, and father whenever she could catch him.

"if only i'd a better racket!" she sighed one night, "it's impossible to do very much with a wretched old thing that's half sprung. you should have seen my serves when netta lent me hers yesterday!"

"why don't you buy a new one, then?" suggested lesbia. "you're the crœsus of the family. your money box must be bursting, for you've been hoarding up for ages. how much have you got in it?"

"ah! wouldn't you like to know!" returned gwen, suddenly desirous of changing the subject.

"you really might get a new racket, gwen," agreed winnie. "it's a good idea of lesbia's. we'd all borrow it on occasion."

"oh, i dare say! very nice for you all, no doubt. rackets are rather expensive little luxuries, my dear girl. otherwise i'd be happy to accommodate you."

"you're a perfect old miser! what are you going to do with your wealth? invest it in an annuity?"

"probably speculate on the stock exchange, or take up mexican mines!" declared gwen, trying to turn things off with a laugh.

"well, you're the only member of the family who keeps any money."

"a good example in thrift to the rest of you, then!"

gwen did not dare to complain again about the poorness of her racket, though it was a serious handicap in her games at school, where most of the girls

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came supplied with the very best. in spite of this impediment her play improved steadily, and she several times beat louise mawson, though she could not vanquish hilda brown or charlotte perry, the champions at present of the form.

"i suppose you're going to take swimming, gwen?" said netta one day. "miss trent says we begin this afternoon."

"haven't heard anything about it. please condescend to enlighten my ignorance."

"why, don't you know? we're going to the baths every wednesday. it's clean-water day, and the whole school's to go in relays. they've a ripping teacher of swimming there now, a miss morris, who swam the channel halfway, or did something else marvellous, i forget exactly what. anyway, it's arranged we're to have a proper course of lessons. i expect every girl in the form will join."

"it sounds—well, just idyllic!" said gwen. "whether i can take it or not is another question. i shall have to ask at home first."

"oh, mr. gascoyne's sure to say 'yes'. why shouldn't he? all girls ought to learn to swim."

it was impossible to explain to netta that the fee for the course might prove an insurmountable barrier. gwen was always too proud to plead poverty, and hid her father's narrow circumstances from her schoolmates as well as she could.

"you won't have time to ask before this afternoon," said netta. "i advise you to go to the baths, though. i believe the lessons don't begin till next week, and this is only what you might call a trial

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trip, so you could see how you like it. miss trent says we can get bathing dresses there to-day, and bring our own afterwards."

the rodenhurst girls had not before been taken to the public baths at stedburgh, and the swimming course was a new departure of miss roscoe's. the idea proved extremely popular, and almost everybody wanted at least to sample the experiment.

"oh, yes, you might go to-day," said winnie, whom gwen caught and consulted in the passage. "there's no great damage in that. you don't pledge yourself to take the course. lesbia can go too. miss roscoe said it was to be a special afternoon."

"that's all right, then," said gwen, rushing jubilantly away.

she was immensely anxious to learn to swim. the bay at skelwick was so dangerous that father would not allow any of them to bathe there, so as yet she had had no chance of testing her skill in natation. she loved all kinds of physical sports, they seemed a necessity of her active, fast-growing young body, and the prospect of trying a new element was alluring. in the very highest of spirits she joined the procession of fifth form girls that filed off at three o'clock, in charge of miss douglas.

the baths at stedburgh had only lately been enlarged and re-opened, and in their improved shape were now quite a feature of the town. they were supplied with salt water, and could boast great conveniences in the matter of dressing-rooms, hair-drying apparatus, and plentiful hot towels. gwen had never been inside before, so she gazed with delighted ad

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miration, at the ladies' large bath, with its pale-green tiles, its flights of steps, and its diving board at the deep end. there was a cord across the middle, with a big notice that non-swimmers were to venture no farther, and must confine themselves to the shallow end; also that water wings could be hired.

"i hear miss morris won't let her pupils use those, though," said netta. "she calls it an amateurish dodge. i should think we shall have to hold each other up while we practise our strokes!"

gwen secured a bathing costume that fitted quite tolerably. she had no mackintosh cap, but she plaited her hair very tightly instead. she did not much care whether it got wet or not. it was most exciting to run down the steps and slip into the lovely clear green water. she had undressed with such record speed that she was actually the first, but she was very soon joined by a bevy of laughing, squealing maidens. it was an amusing, but not a picturesque sight. the fifth form attired in bathing costumes were about as different from the academy pictures of classical nymphs as a man in the street from a statue of apollo. instead of floating about in graceful attitudes, with the "amber dropping hair" of milton's sabrina, they "larked" like a school of porpoises, splashing each other and playing tricks. there was no attempt at a lesson that afternoon. the girls just enjoyed themselves in their own way, with many cautions from miss douglas not to trespass beyond the danger line. gwen, held up by netta, made frantic efforts to try her strokes, though her attempts invariably ended in a plunge from which

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she came up spluttering. netta, with a very little help from gwen, got on much better, for she had been to the baths before, and had had some practice. several of the girls were already good swimmers, and after showing their prowess, were allowed to disport themselves at the deep end.

"i shan't be content till i can dive," declared gwen, watching enviously as elspeth frazer took a header. "i shouldn't think it's difficult when you get the knack. it will be just having the pluck to try. i can float the least little scrap already, so i've learnt something this afternoon, and so have you."

"we shall both get on grandly at the lessons," assented netta.

the whole form agreed unanimously that the experiment was "ripping", and everyone was extremely anxious to come again. gwen went home mad with enthusiasm, and lesbia, whose form had preceded the fifth, was in equal ecstasies. both besieged their father with wild entreaties to be allowed to take the course.

"you haven't told me the fees, and that's a very important point," said mr. gascoyne.

"i quite forgot to ask," admitted gwen, brought down to the mundane side of the question. "lesbia, do you know?"

lesbia shook her head. she rarely knew anything; as a rule other people were ready to manage her affairs for her.

"miss douglas says the swimming course is to be half a guinea each, and admission to the baths threepence a time. there is a special arrangement for

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schools," said winnie, supplying the needed information.

"then i must think it over," returned father. "times are bad just now, chicks, and i don't know whether i can afford it. a curacy is not a fat living, remember, and there are seven of you!"

very much sobered, the enthusiastic bathers betook themselves to their preparation.

"i wish everything nice didn't cost money!" sighed gwen.

she broached the subject to beatrice during the evening.

"i've been talking about it to father," said the latter. "i'm afraid he can't manage it for you both, but he might possibly for one. it will be a choice between you and lesbia."

"i'm the eldest!" urged gwen quickly.

"yes, i know you are, but on the other hand, it really is lesbia's turn, because you took the st. john's ambulance last winter at the parish room, and lesbia didn't."

"swimming's a million times nicer than ambulance!"

"it's not any more useful. don't be selfish, gwen! you know how hard up we are. we can't all of us do everything, and i think this time it certainly ought to be lesbia."

gwen kicked the orchard gate against which they were leaning, and tried to keep down a lump that rose in her throat. beatrice's arguments were unanswerable.

"it'll be sickening to be the only one in the form

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who doesn't take swimming," she said at last. "every single girl will join except me. i shall have to stop behind and do prep. instead. i'll feel more utterly out of things than ever."

"you could pay for the course yourself, if you like," suggested beatrice. "what have you done with all your money?"

gwen's restless hands were hacking notches on the top bar of the gate. her penknife slipped suddenly, and cut her finger.

"your own fault, if you will be so clumsy!" said beatrice. "come indoors, and i'll tie it up for you. you'd better hold it under the cold-water tap first."

gwen groaned in spirit as she went to bed that night.

"i shall never hear the last of that wretched fifteen shillings!" she thought "i feel like mr. caudle in the curtain lectures, when he'd lent a five-pound note to a friend. that money of mine was to have bought christmas presents, and boots for johnnie cass, and a new tennis racket, and paid for the swimming, and i don't know what else, according to my family's ideas. oh, dear! being poor's a hateful business! i wish dad were archbishop of canterbury, instead of only curate-in-charge of skelwick bay!"