The Youngest Girl in the Fifth

Gwen threw the half-sharpened pencil inside her desk and banged down the lid."What does Miss Roscoe want with me?" she asked in some consternation. "Are you sure she meant me?"A summons from the headmistress rarely boded good fortune to the recipient, and the girls stared at Gwen with interested sympathy."What have you been doing?" murmured Eve Dawkins."Glad I'm not in your shoes!" proclaimed Daisy Hurst."Oh, Gwen, I am sorry for you!" bleated Alma Richardson."I've not been doing anything!" protested Gwen indignantly. "You've no need to look at me as if I were a cross between a criminal and a martyr! Here, you babe, what did Miss Roscoe say?""Only that you're to go to the library; and you'd better be quick, because she said: 'Tell her to come at once!' Said it in her snappiest way, too! I shouldn't be a month about going if I were you. Hello! There's the bell. Ta-ta, I'm off! I wish you luck!" and Ida Bridge fled to the region of her own classroom, with a grin on her impish face. Though she might rail at the impudence of the small fry, Gwen was not above taking a hint-headmistresses do not lightly brook being kept waiting-so she started at a run up the passage, turning over in her mind every possible crime which she might unwittingly have committed."Can't remember using the front gate, or not changing my boots, or talking on the stairs, or-oh, wow! Here I am at the library! Well, whatever I've done, I suppose I'm in for it now! I hope she won't absolutely wither me up!"So far from looking withering as Gwen entered the room, the Principal wore an unusually encouraging and benign expression. She was a handsome, large, imposing woman, with a stern cast of features, and was held in great awe by the whole 7school. As a rule, Seniors and Juniors quailed alike under the glance of her keen dark eyes."Come here, Gwen," she said blandly, as her pupil stood hesitating near the door. "I want to have a little talk with you. I've been looking over your reports for the last few weeks, and I find that you've done well-so well, that I consider the standard of the Upper Fourth is too easy for you. I think you ought to be able to manage the work of the Fifth Form, and I'm going to move you there."Gwen stared at Miss Roscoe, too surprised to answer. Such a proposal as a change of Form was absolutely the last thing she could have expected. In the middle of a term it was surely an unprecedented happening. For the moment she scarcely knew whether to be alarmed or flattered at the honour thus thrust upon her.