Vivien scraped back her chair and clumped noisily from the room, leaving the majority of the committee indignant. They consulted together, and by general consent drew up a short code for the use of monitresses. They handed a copy of it to Vivien next morning. She glanced at it casually, and flung it into the waste-paper basket.
"I'm a monitress as much as the rest of you," she remarked, "and I have my authority from Miss Kingsley. I can't see that I'm answerable to anyone else."
Among the juniors, Vivien's reputation was not pleasant. Naturally, they talked over the monitresses among themselves. Juniors are sharp-eyed little mortals, and they had a very good idea of how matters stood.
"Vivien loves to boss," said Nan Carson. "She's wild because she's not head, and she takes it out of us in exchange."
"I don't see why she should order us about so."
"She's not a mistress!"
"No, only a monitress."
"It's not fair."
"I shall tell her so, some day."
"She's a mean old thing!"