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take her away from the school?”

“I’d gamble my year’s salary on it!”

She did not sleep very well that night. She lay, taut and

anxious, mentally rehearsing an apology to Marc Lillitos, but

each time choking as she opened her mouth and saw, in her

mind’s eye, that arrogant dark face. After all, he had insulted

Sam! And she was not really sorry for anything she had said.

It had all been true. She just regretted having said it so force-

fully.

She thumped her pillow irritably. What a pity he had come

at that particular moment. She was certain neither Pallas

nor Sam were emotionally involved with each other. It was

just friendship. But to a man l

ike Marc Lillitos a friendly hug

looked like moral depravity.

She arrived at Cheddall very early next day, anticipating a

summons to Miss Carter’s study. The Head would quite

rightly feel she had behaved very stupidly in her response to

the situation. She could have been more tactful. The trouble

was, thought Kate wryly, that although she had blonde hair,

she had inherited her redheaded father’s blazing temper. As

a child she had often had lectures from him on the subject, no

less stern because he fully understood her problem.

“I have a temper, too, Kate,” he used to say, “but one must

learn to control it, rather than let it control you.”

It was odd that Sam, who had his father’s hair, had been

by-passed by the family temper. He was a very good-natured

boy.

She waited all morning in suspense, but no summons

came. Her discreet enquiries in the staff-room told her that


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