"Well, they'd no need to. They were both jolly certain that Miss Pollard would make them monitresses. It's easy to talk loftily when you're sure of your innings."
"Did Mavis canvass?"
"No—but then, of course, Mavis wouldn't!"
"Why not?"
"Oh—because she's Mavis! I can't see her doing it somehow. What a long time Miss Mitchell and Miss Fanny are over their counting! I wish they'd hurry up. I want to go home to tea."
The girls had not much longer, however, to wait.
In the course of a few minutes the new mistress entered the hall and read out the important result.
"The polling is as follows," she announced.
"Muriel Burnitt . . . 27
Mavis Ramsay . . . 20
Merle Ramsay . . . 19
Edith Carey . . . 14
Aubrey Simpson . . . 12
"The two monitresses elected, therefore, are Muriel Burnitt and Mavis
Ramsay."