"I was just looking for you!" said the teacher. "I've arranged an extra
hockey practice at three, instead of English language. Will you tell the
others?"
This was excellent news. The Fifth hated the English Language class,
which consisted mostly of learning strings of horrible derivations, and
to have it cut out for once in favour of hockey was quite an event. Merle
walked up the drive smirking with satisfaction. By the porch she found
Sybil, with an English language book in one hand, half-heartedly helping
Miss Fanny, who was nailing up creepers. She looked very sorry for
herself.
"I wish you'd hold the ladder, Merle!" she sighed, eager to thrust her
duties on to a substitute. "I don't feel quite well this afternoon. I get
such a faintness. Aren't these derivations too awful for anything?" she
added _sotto voce_. "I don't believe I know one of them."
"Buck up!" whispered Merle with scant sympathy.
"It's all very well to say 'buck up'! You don't know what it is to feel
faint.
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