"Yes; but I thought it was nothing more than a taffy pull."

"It is a deep-laid plot to reform us all. I must give her credit in the selection of her colleagues. She has picked those who will carry her plans through if they once see fit to accept them. Oh, no, don't be alarmed," as she noticed Miss Watson's expression, "there may come some good from it; no evil at least, I'm sure. It may be a good thing to have them talk the matter over." Then she related the events of the morning.

The girls did not know the reason for their being called together. Nora O'Day, to Elizabeth's surprise, made no objections, Elizabeth having explained fully that it was not a social but a purely business meeting.

Nora came in after the others had gathered. With a nod to them collectively, she took her place before the grate.

Elizabeth stated the reason of the gathering. She related the scene of the morning.

"You know I never was in an examination before," she said. "You have no idea how it impressed me. To think of having two and three teachers in the room to watch us! Why, it seemed to me it was the most insulting thing possible."

"That is because it is new to you. It really was not meant that way," Miss Cresswell explained. "But you must bear this in mind--school life is just like outside life. There are some students who are dishonest. There's no getting around that fact. And because of those few, we must all be put under surveillance."

Elizabeth was not to be convinced. "I do not see why. I felt this morning in cla.s.s just as I would if I had gone into Dr. Morgan's room and she had immediately locked up her jewelry and her purse. Surely, the teachers themselves must have learned by this time who can be trusted and who can not! Suppose among the fifty girls in our room this morning, there were one or two who cheated. I think it would have been far better to allow them to go their way than have treated us all like criminals. What great difference would it make anyhow? They would be the only losers; and as to being watched, how is that going to make them any better?"

Mary Wilson shook back her hair. Her eyes were beginning to flash. As Elizabeth discussed the question, her enthusiasm grew.

"It makes them worse--far worse. If there is anything in the world that would make me cheat it is being watched to see that I didn't. I'd do it then just to prove that I could be sharper than they."

They talked the matter over thoroughly, each one, with the exception of Nora O'Day, expressing herself freely. She sat silent; but her silence did not spring from lack of interest. She listened keenly to every word, and weighed it fully before she accepted it. Elizabeth wondered at her, for she was not naturally quiet. The others understood, and did not ask for her opinion.

Elizabeth had gained one point. The girls did not treat Miss O'Day with that studied formality which is more galling than open neglect as they had on former occasions. Mary, in particular, was quite agreeable, and Nora herself more at ease.

Elizabeth had a plan for this reformation. She was not attempting the impossible. Her idea was practical. Even Miss Cresswell declared it to be wise.

"Will you be secretary, Miss Cresswell, and jot down our plan?" asked Elizabeth.

She moved to the study-table, taking up a pencil and tablet ready for work. "What have you decided to do about talking with the girls?" she asked. "Will you call them all together and present this plan to them?"

"No; my idea was to interview each one by herself. It seems so much more personal than talking to them all together. I think they will take it so; I'm sure I should."

"Perhaps so. But it will mean a great deal of work."

"We will not object to the work," said Mary Wilson, "if we only succeed in carrying out Elizabeth's idea."

The details were further discussed. Then they began to apportion a certain section of the Hall for each girl to visit.

"We need not visit them all. Each new recruit will be put to work to get other signers."

Anna Cresswell continued her writing. At last she spoke. "We will have this run off on the typewriter. Listen. Is this just what you intend, Elizabeth?" She read:

"We, the undersigned students of Exeter Hall, not being contented with the present method of conducting examinations, believing that it casts reflections upon the honor of each student, do hereby suggest a means of reformation. We pledge ourselves individually to receive no a.s.sistance at such times. Furthermore, we will quietly but firmly discountenance among the students any methods not strictly honorable.

"We respectfully request Dr. Morgan to have examinations conducted hereafter without the presence of instructors, we pledging ourselves that under our supervision they will reflect credit both upon Exeter and the students."

"You have done it beautifully. My father could not have done it better,"

said Elizabeth. "Now we must get the names of the best girls at Exeter."

"Don't have a name of one who does not mean to keep her pledge," advised Miss Cresswell. "Fifty people in earnest are worth more than an hundred, half of whom veer with the wind."

"But as Anna Cresswell said before," began Mary Wilson excitedly, "there will be some who will cheat. What will we do?"

"Most of the girls will agree to this, and the majority can be depended upon to do as they pledge themselves. If you keep your eyes open in the cla.s.s-room, you can soon discover who has no sense of honor. These may be taken quietly aside and spoken to. If they transgress a second time, we will make the affair public." This advice came from Miss Cresswell.

At the close of her speech, Mame Welch arose. "If we don't scatter soon, the lights will be out, and I do not care to wander down the staircase in the dark. I did it once, and I had a b.u.mp on my head for a week. One's head is not the best 'lighting' place. Come, Carrie Hirsch, you go my way.

If the lights go out, we will fall together." Slipping her arm through Carrie's, and bidding the others good-night, she quitted the room.

Miss Cresswell and Nancy followed, with cheery words to encourage Mary and Elizabeth for to-morrow's work. Nora O'Day remained. She was quite a striking figure as she stood leaning with her elbow against the mantel, looking down into the grate. As always, she was richly dressed. Her loose robe of crimson silk, her dark hair hanging in a single braid, and her olive-tinted skin presented a glowing picture.

"I waited until the others left," she said, "to speak to you alone, Elizabeth. I have been wishing to for several days, but you were so busy, I didn't feel that I could take you from your work."

"You can talk together here. I am going into the bedroom," said Mary, making ready to disappear.

"No; I do not wish to disturb you. I intended asking Elizabeth to walk to the end of the hall with me. I love to sit on the window-seat at the landing. The campus is beautiful in the moonlight. No one is disturbed by the talking there. I think Mrs. Schuyler will not mind late hours to-night, since we go home to-morrow. Will you come, Elizabeth?"

"Yes; wait one minute until I get a wrap. That window-seat is full of drafts, I know. I have sat there before."

Taking down a golf cape, she wrapped it about her. "Come," she added, drawing Miss O'Day's arm through her own. "We will be night-hawks until Mrs. Schuyler finds us. Don't lock the door, Mary. I'll slip in later."

A delightfully broad window-seat filled with cushions was at the turn of the stairway, where one had a view of the campus, now snow covered, beautiful in the glimmer of the moonlight.

Arranging the cushions here to her satisfaction, Nora began the conversation. "I heard you talk in the meeting yesterday, Elizabeth, and I wish to thank you."

"Why thank me? I only said what I thought."

"Some girls might have done considerably less--to my knowledge some of them have. You ran the risk of being unpopular, and yet you were willing to take that risk because you were my friend. That is the kind of friendship that is worth having. You do not know how pleased, how glad I was! Why, I had not been so happy for months."

"Take the risk! Because I was your friend! Well, I must be awfully dense, but really, Nora, I haven't the faintest idea what you are trying to say."

"You say that to escape my thanks--my grat.i.tude. That is just your way. I might have expected as much. You do a generous, n.o.ble deed and then slip away from the grat.i.tude that follows."

"Well, it may be my way, and it may not. I do not know what you are talking about. If I have done what you call a generous, n.o.ble deed, this is the first I have heard of it. If your mind is still upon the speech I made yesterday, you may be sure there was nothing n.o.ble about that. Why, you have no idea how angry I was! It made me so indignant to hear some explain what should be done and how. I didn't approve of their plans at all, so the only thing left for me to do was to say what I thought about it. It is news to me that being indignant and expressing yourself rather--well, rather forcibly, is n.o.ble and generous. Though," dryly, "I'm rather glad it is so, for it will be easy for me to be n.o.ble in that fashion."

Miss O'Day turned to look closely at her.

"Really, Elizabeth, upon your honor now, did you really not have me in mind when you made that speech yesterday?"

"I did not, 'pon honor," she laughed softly. Then she gave Miss O'Day's hand a very loving squeeze to mitigate the hurt her next words might contain. "It may be rather galling to your pride, but I did not even think of you after we entered the meeting, although I suppose you must have been sitting by me. I was all eyes and ears for what was going on up front. I suppose you might add all mouth, too, for that matter."

"Then you did not know what happened here last spring? Did none of the girls tell you?"

"I do not know what particular happenings you have in mind. But no one told me of anything that was unusual."

"Well, then I shall tell you. It was not until last evening that I felt that I could talk the matter over with any one; but after you spoke as you did, I knew that you could understand. I have borne it so long without letting any one know, that it is a relief to think I can tell just how I feel, and how awful these months at Exeter have been. I might have gone somewhere else this fall and not returned at all; but when I thought it over, it seemed to me that it would be cowardly to slip away like that.

Last summer I wrote to Dr. Morgan that I intended returning. Then I made up my mind that I would stay here until I made every one at Exeter, from Dr. Morgan down to the dining-hall girls, respect me." She paused, then added slowly, "But I don't seem to have made much headway yet."

There was a sadness in the girl's voice which embarra.s.sed Elizabeth. She knew that Nora O'Day was sad--had known that for a long time. She would have been glad to express sympathy, say some word which would show confidence in her companion, but she was so new to anything of this sort that she could do nothing but sit silent and look at her. Then she suddenly blurted out:

"I do not know what you are talking about! Tell me, Nora. I fancy it is not really so bad as you think."