Spring came early this year and the school spent much time out of doors during the last term. Many classes were held in the big sun porches and in the sheltered spots in the grounds, and the various teams were hard at basket-ball and cricket and tennis, even before breakfast.

It was not so hard now to get up at a quarter to seven, and Judith and Florence even joined the B.B.B.'s—"Before Breakfast Brigade"—who pledged themselves to get up in time for a dip in the swimming-pool or a game before the breakfast-bell rang.

Judith was especially keen about tennis, and she improved her game so much that, to her surprise and delight, even high and mighty prefects like Patricia and Catherine were asking her for practice games in preparation for the House and School Tournaments later on. Catherine was a very busy person, indeed, just now; she had an important part in the play given during prize-giving week and she was a member of the Senior basket-ball team. Judith would never be a basket-ball enthusiast, but she filled a very respectable position on the Junior team and she could share in the excitement about the Senior match which was to be played against Queen's School. Patricia was working her team hard; every spare hour was devoted to goal practice, and team practice came every day as a matter of course.

Nancy had much to tell Judith of last year's triumph when Eleanor's brilliant play had won the coveted trophy for York Hill. This year Queen's were reported to have a marvellous centre and school gossip held that the York Hill team would have a hard battle to keep the shield. Unfortunately, the very day before the match, Helen Burton, a prefect of West House, slipped and wrenched her knee, so that her playing was out of the question. She was not their most brilliant player by any means, but she was steady and used her brains in the game better than most. Althea Somerset was put in as a substitute, but it was disconcerting to lose a tried warrior before the fight began.

Nancy was a timekeeper, and on the day of the match Judith took her stand beside her with the lemons for the refreshment of the teams. The whole School had lined the campus to watch the game; at one end were a group of Old Girls and the staff; near by was a splash of scarlet marking the visitors from Queen's School. Judith, watching the trim figures of the players line up, Queen's with scarlet ties and bands, York Hill with gold ties, felt a sudden rush of loyalty at the sight of her own well-loved prefects.

"They must win—they must—there can't be a doubt of it," said Judith to herself.

The much-talked-of Queen's centre was as wonderful as gossip had reported. She seemed like a veritable spider, all arms and legs; try as she would Althea could not prevent her getting the ball. And there was a fair-haired girl—Pamela by name—who was the best shot Judith had ever seen.

The score mounted rapidly for Queen's and at half-time, when Judith distributed her slices of lemon, things looked rather dark for York Hill.

But Patricia had been using her brains while she played, and Judith and Nancy ministering to the team heard her final injunctions.

"We'll beat 'em yet. Watch that right centre and Pamela Price on the left guard; they're both dandy shots, and they both want a chance to show off. Mark my words, we'll get some fine shots the last half. Their weak point is team-work, and I'm glad to say we're playing together—watch your passing—we're bound to win!"

Judith and Nancy went back to their posts in a state of great excitement. There was an infectious courage and cheeriness about Patricia's words. Certainly Queen's had five points to their favour, but just as certainly York Hill would win!

Up went the ball again and up went the spider-like centre's long arms, and away went the coveted ball in the wrong direction. Judith's heart sank—this half was going to be just like the other—how terrible!

Thirteen-eight—Fourteen-eight.

The whistle blew. Judith couldn't see what had happened, but evidently there had been a foul, for Catherine had a free throw.

York Hill let themselves go for a minute. Good for Cathy! Seconds were precious now and the play was swift.

Again the whistle.

This time Patricia took the ball.

York Hill held its breath.

Fourteen-ten.

Nothing succeeds like success!

The York Hill team quickened and became tense during those last few seconds like a great orchestra for the finale of a symphony, in answer to the conductor's baton. Patricia felt a thrill of pride. How magnificently the team was responding—they were playing like one person—and that person meant to win—there could be no doubt of it.

"Fifteen-fifteen," said the umpire calmly.

Judith standing quietly beside Nancy wanted to shriek and shout like a young savage—"We're going to beat you! We're going to beat you—yah!"

Fifteen-seventeen! Good for Althea!

Ah, Pamela Price has scored!

"Good play," said York, generously applauding a neat shot.

Seventeen-all—and a minute more to play!

Althea has the ball—no, there it is—Patricia's got it—

That must be Pamela again—no, Catherine has it!

Catherine poised herself and threw.

A soft sighing sound from hundreds of lips marked the safe arrival of the ball in the basket, and then spontaneous cheering drowned the umpire's voice.

York Hill had the cup for another year!

The cheering over, the teams departed for afternoon tea, and the audience, breaking up into little groups, settled down to a discussion of the points of the game.

"They've certainly a dandy centre, and that fair girl was a great shot—but wasn't Cathy gorgeous! If we'd only had another two minutes—one minute—we'd have beaten 'em all hollow."

"Wasn't our team-work simply splendid?" gloated Judith. "I should think Patricia would be awfully proud. By the way, that reminds me—Patricia said I must play off in the House Tournament to-morrow afternoon. Come on over to the tennis court. I'll play you two—I've got a new serve I want to try. Oh, dear! I wish there weren't any exams this term; I'd like to play the whole time."

Next day when Judith looked at the tournament lists she was astonished to find that she was to play against Catherine. Catherine for the last two years had been South's choice to play in the School Tournament, and although she had been beaten by Nelly Smith of West last year, it was pretty generally conceded that she would win in the preliminary House Tournament and play again in the finals.

"Rather rough on me to have to play against a champion," laughed Judith as they tossed for counts a little later, "but I'm going to give you a hard fight, Cathy, see if I don't."

Perhaps it was the spirit of the blue and golden May day, cool enough to be pleasant, warm enough to be a joy, or the little breeze which came floating across the campus carrying an intoxicating scent of lilacs, but whatever the reason, some sprite seemed to have taken possession of Judith, and she threw herself into the game with such enthusiasm, such abandon, such elfin-like nimbleness that Catherine couldn't touch her balls.

There was not a large audience, for cricket and swimming claimed many, but the crew of the "Jolly Susan" were there, you may be sure, and most of South House, for it had been whispered about that Judith's game was worth watching.

"Well played," said Eleanor heartily, as Florence called out the score. "Game and set in Judith's favour! You've improved your game tremendously, Judy."

"Thanks, Judy," said Catherine; "hardly a good fight, I'm afraid, rather a good beating." Try as she did to keep it out there was a little coldness in Catherine's voice. She was tired after yesterday's match, and it wasn't particularly pleasant to be beaten by a youngster after she had been champion for South for two years.

Judith's quick ears had caught the note of coldness, and her gay spirits deserted her instantly. What did winning a game matter if Catherine were displeased with her! She was almost angry with Nancy, who remarked gleefully after Catherine had gone, "You're almost sure to be chosen to play for the House now, Judy, dear. What tremendous luck!"

Judith wouldn't hear of it, and when a little later Eleanor told her that she was the choice of the Committee she begged to be let off.

"It really wasn't fair," she protested. "Cathy was awfully tired and not in good form, and I was feeling tip-top. I'd hate to take her place."

But Eleanor was firm. "Catherine," she said, "is not playing so well—she's had too many irons in the fire, so we'll look to you to win for South. Patricia says she'll take you for fifteen minutes every morning before breakfast. Your net play needs a little steadying—get in as much practice as you can before the tournament."

Eleanor's word was final, and of course it was gratifying to be chosen, but Judith's pleasure was spoilt by her fear that Catherine was hurt and would never be friends with her again. That night at visiting hour she knocked at Catherine's door with the resolve to tell her in some way or other that she was sorry. She didn't know quite how it was to be done, because she might only make matters worse. But instead of Catherine's usual cheerful "Come in," a preoccupied voice said, "Who's there?" and to Judith's answer, replied, "Will another time do, Judy? I'm awfully busy."

Judith went off disconsolately, and when she did try to express her regret at being chosen in place of Catherine, her endeavours, as she feared, were not a success. Catherine merely said that of course she was glad Judith was to play, but again her voice was cold.

"Cathy doesn't really mean it," protested Nancy, in whom Judith confided. "She's just busy with the play—you know she's to be the heroine—and she's writing on her diploma examination too. Cheer up, Judy, don't look so like an owl."

Judith refused to be comforted; the honour of the House meant less to her than the friendship of Catherine whom she had adored from the first day she entered York Hill. However, she practiced hard—Patricia saw to that—and when Tournament Day came she had profited not a little by the week's coaching.

But Patricia was worried. True, Judith's serve had improved, but she lacked the nerve and spirit which had made her playing so irresistible in the House match, and Nelly Smith was an old hand at the game.

The great day came. Surely Catherine would wish her luck, and while Judith put on a fresh white skirt and blouse and made her hair as trim as possible, she listened for the sound of Catherine's footsteps—but no Catherine came, and Judith went off to the match with a heavy heart.

The central courts were lined with spectators, and as they tossed for courts Judith realized that this was an occasion. The cup was to go for a year to the winner of this one match, for Nelly Smith had already beaten Althea Somerset of North, and East, being largely a Junior House, had no representative.

Over by the umpire's stand Judith could see the crew of the "Jolly Susan"—Nancy's pretty golden head and Josephine's untidy red one. Jane seemed to be holding a flag—yes, it must be the "Susan's" flag. If only Catherine—!

Nelly had the first serve, and the white balls began to fly back and forth. Nelly won her serve and then Judith hers. It was steady, interesting playing. They were well matched. But Judith's mind was only half on her game, for while with one half of her brain she countered Nelly's tactics, the other half was still occupied with Catherine and the possibility of losing Catherine's friendship if she won the game.

Suddenly in a flash Judith saw a solution. Supposing she didn't win—and of course she mightn't—Nelly was no mean rival—would Catherine restore her to friendship? Supposing she didn't try her very hardest?

Judith's thoughts were centred on Catherine and the full dishonour of what she was contemplating did not occur to her. She only knew that nothing seemed to matter if she lost Catherine. Nancy, meanwhile, who surmised what was troubling Judith, was watching her anxiously, and because she knew her so well she saw that Judith was not putting her whole self into the game, although she had won the first set by a very narrow margin. Nelly's score was climbing steadily now—five-three, five-four.

"Game and set to Nelly Smith," called the umpire as the players changed courts, and when Nelly stooped to tighten a shoelace, Nancy made a quick decision and whispered in Catherine's ear:

"Judy's nervous, Cathy; please say something to cheer her up the way you did at the play."

The colour deepened ever so slightly in Catherine's cheeks, for she had been mentally shaking herself that she had not been more generous to Judy, so she was quick to seize her opportunity as Judith passed.

"Good for you, Judibus—you're certain to win—you're doing splendidly. Remember we're trusting ourselves to you—but we're sure of the cup—you can play!"

Catherine's old self, all the coldness gone, spoke in the words.

They seemed to be magic words, for a miracle happened then and there. Nelly fought hard and it was a battle worth watching, but Judith was quite certain now that she would win. Nelly really hadn't a chance against some one who suddenly realized that she had not been answering up to the trust her friends had given her; some one who saw herself restored to the favour she coveted; some one who knew now that it didn't matter a bit whether she lost or won as long as she did her very best; some one who was suddenly walking on air, whose eyes and cheeks were glowing with joy, and whose feet and wits seemed so nimble that strategy and tactics were blown to the winds.

The last set went rapidly, and it seemed afterwards to Judith only a few exhilarating moments until the umpire was announcing, "Game and set in favour of Judith Benson," and three cheers were being given for her and three cheers for South. South House had the cup back again!

Judith had just sufficient presence of mind left to shake hands with Nelly and thank her for the game, and then she was in the midst of a happy throng of Southerners who shouted congratulations and told her she was a brick, and a wonder, and a credit to the House.

Invitations for tea at the tuck shop poured in thick and fast, but Catherine answered for her:

"Not a bit of it; she belongs to the 'Jolly Susan' first of all, and we've a spread of ship's rations in my room all ready for the occasion."

Judith looked so radiant at the party that Sally May, who always knew the latest bit of gossip, said disappointedly,

"I suppose you know about Miss Ashwell, Judy?"

"What about her?" said Judith eagerly. "Is she—?"

"Yes, she—is—engaged! It's frightfully exciting—some of the girls saw her ring this afternoon, and she said yes she was, and what do you think?" Sally May paused dramatically.

"Well—?"

"She's going to be married in prize-giving week because the Major is going back to France—and Miss Meredith is giving her a school wedding—only all the Old Girls are going to be there—so they're not sure whether we'll be invited."

Sally May paused for breath.

Here was room for discussion, indeed. A wedding! A York Hill wedding! And their own Miss Ashwell! Surely they would be invited!

Field Day proved another exciting topic—they all decided to enter the suitcase race and provide some merriment for the School by the costumes they would produce. The party broke up reluctantly to dress for dinner. But Catherine managed to detain Judith for a moment and say in an undertone:

"I've been horrid lately, Judy—too busy with the play to be decent. I suppose you're getting busy, too, on the Properties Committee; but I wonder if you could spare time to hear me my part to-night?"

Could she?