On hearing Miss Duckworth's version of the story, however, Mrs. Morrison reconsidered her decision, sent for the culprit, lectured her, and solemnly forgave her. She further summoned all the members of the S.S.O.P. to present themselves in her study. In view of the recent occurrence they came trembling, and stood in a downcast line while she addressed them.
"I hear from Miss Duckworth," she said, "that you have founded a secret society among yourselves for the purpose of encouraging patriotism. I do not in general approve of secret societies, but I sympathize with your object. It is the duty of every citizen of our Empire to be patriotic. There are various ways, however, in which we can show our love for our country. Let us be sure that they are wise and discreet ways before we adopt them. Some forms of kindness may be excellent when administered by grown-up and experienced women, but are not suitable for schoolgirls. If you want to help the soldiers you may sew bed-jackets. I have just received a new consignment of flannel, and will ask Sister Johnstone to cut some out for you to-morrow."
The S.S.O.P. retired somewhat crestfallen.
"I hate sewing!" mourned Betty.
"So do I," confessed Sylvia. "But we'll all just have to slave away at those bed-jackets if we want to square the Empress. It must come out of our spare time, too, worse luck!"
Marjorie entered St. Elgiva's in a half-dazed condition. A hurricane seemed to have descended that morning, whirled her almost to destruction, then blown itself away, and left her decidedly battered by the storm. Up in her own cubicle she indulged in the luxury of a thorough good cry. The S.S.O.P. in a body rose up to comfort her, but, like Jacob of old, she refused comfort.
"I'm not to be t-t-trusted to have my own postage stamps," she sobbed. "I've to take even my home letters to the Empress to be looked at, and she'll stamp them. I'm to miss my next exeat, and Aunt Ellinor's to be told the reason, and I'm not to play hockey for a month."
"Oh, Marjorie! Then there isn't the remotest chance of your getting into the Eleven for St. Elgiva's. What a shame!"
"I know. It's spoilt everything."
"And the whole school knows now about the S.S.O.P. It's leaked out somehow, and the secret's gone. It'll be no more fun."