"Certainly she should go to bed," Helen said sharply. "We're all sleepy. Do hurry, child."
"Speak for yourself, Helen," snapped Amy. "I don't have to mind you, I hope."
"You do if you want to get anywhere in this school—and mind every other senior who is kind enough to notice you," said Ann. "You've not learned that lesson yet."
"And I don't believe you can teach me," responded the younger girl, ready to quarrel with anybody. "Give me back my book!"
Ruth went to her and put her arm around Amy's neck. "Don't, dear, be so fractious," she begged. "We had all to go through a process of 'fagging' when we first came to Briarwood. It is good for us—part of the discipline. I asked Mrs. Tellingham to let you come over here with us so that you really would not be put upon——"
"I don't thank you!" snapped Amy, ungratefully. "I can look out for myself, I guess. I always have."
"You're like the self-made man," drawled Ann. "You've made an awfully poor job of it! You need a little discipline, my dear."
"Not from you!" cried the other girl, her eyes flashing.
It took Ruth several minutes to quiet this sea of trouble. It was half an hour before Amy cried herself to sleep on her couch. The other girls had both crept into bed and called to Ruth sleepily to put out the light. Ruth was not undressed; but she did as they requested.
Then she went to the window and opened it. Nothing had been heard from above since Mrs. Smith had looked in at the chamber door. But Ruth was sure the grim old woman was waiting at her grandson's window, in the cold shed bedroom, ready for Curly when he came in.