“Then what are you fussing about her for?” demanded another of the party.
“Because I see we’re fighting the best interests of the class and the school. And for another thing,” added Miss Rice, turning a fiery red.
“What’s that?” was the general cry.
“Well—just because Beth Baldwin is a whole lot more decent and forgiving than I would ever be if I were in her place,” blurted out Miss Rice. “What do you think?”
Heatedly and baldly, she told of the discovery she had made the evening before. It was not an easy thing for a girl to confess—that she was unattractive, a veritable wallflower. And some of these very girls she talked to were in that same class. But having spurred her courage up, Miss Rice went through with her confession.
“And that’s the sort of girl Baldwin is,” she concluded, rather breathlessly. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a girl here who would have so secretly heaped coals of fire on her enemy’s head.
“Come, now! let us be honest—let us be fair. I don’t like poverty-stricken girls, or girls who come to Rivercliff as Beth Baldwin did, any better than heretofore. But she has beaten me. I don’t mean only in that skating race. She has beaten me in being decent!
“I admit that Miss Hammersly seems to favor her, and the teachers are always boosting Baldwin. But I guess there is good reason for their doing so. I have been acting the dog-in-the-manger part. Never again; I’m going to bury the hatchet right here and now.”
“Bury the hammer, I guess you mean, Rice,” giggled one of her hearers, nervously.
“All right. I’m going to stop knocking. Just as sure as you live, as Molly Granger says, ‘every knock is a boost.’ We might as well stop fighting Beth Baldwin.”