"Ingred, you're not eating yours!"
"I don't want them, thanks," said Ingred hurriedly. "I don't indeed. I've had enough. Pass them on to somebody else, please!"
"Well, if you really don't want them, they won't go a-begging, I dare say!"
Ingred felt as if the grapes would choke her. She could not touch one of them. She hated Bess for having brought them to school, quite irrespective of the fact that she would have done exactly the same in her place, had she been fortunate enough to have the opportunity. Bess, looking shy, and anxious to evade the thanks that poured in upon her, bundled the hamper away under the desk again, and made a palpable effort to change the subject.
"What about this election?" she asked. "Time's getting on. It's after half-past four."
"Good night! Have we been all that time feeding? Here, girls, if you've quite finished, let's get to business," said Avis, rapping on her desk as a signal for silence, and constituting herself spokeswoman for the occasion. "You know what we've met here for—to choose a warden to represent us on the School Council. Well, I feel we couldn't do better than send up Ingred Saxon. She'd look after our interests all right, if anybody would. I beg to propose Ingred Saxon."
"And I beg to second that!" called Nora.
"Hands up, those in favor!"
Such a forest of arms immediately waved in the air that (though in strict order) it seemed hardly necessary for Avis to call out:
"Those against!"