that, and anyone who deliberately disobeys incurs the penalty of being reported to Miss Poppleton."
The corners of Gipsy's mouth were drooping; her face had assumed an expression of abject penitence.
"Please don't do that to me!" she pleaded humbly. "Remember how badly I've been brought up! If I'd been at Briarcroft all the time, instead of other schools, and had had the advantage of the monitresses, I might have been different."
"I expect you would," said Helen freezingly. "And you'll please to remember that now you're here, you'll have to conform to our standards."
"I know I'm a heathen. I'll be only too grateful to be taught better," murmured the subdued voice that was so strangely unlike Gipsy's usual sprightly tones.
Lena Morris turned away to hide a smile. She was possessed of a strong sense of humour, and moreover had a sneaking liking for Gipsy.
"Mind you do as you're told next time, then," commanded Helen. "I'll excuse you this once, but if it happens again, I warn you that I shall send you straight to Miss Poppleton. You may think yourself very lucky to be let off so easily. You can go now."
Gipsy's big brown eyes looked like two wells absolutely overflowing with gratitude and humility.
"Thanks so very immensely much! It's far more than I deserve!" she sighed, and, flaunting the clean handkerchief, beat a hasty retreat.
The monitresses would have been edified if they could have seen the war dance she executed in the passage as soon as the door was shut.
