Patty was a little daunted when she found herself in the austere presence of Miss Oliphant, for she realised only too well that the request she was about to make was, to say the least, unconventional.
“Good-afternoon, Miss Fairfield,” said Miss Oliphant, not unkindly, but in an impersonal tone that did not invite confidential conversation. “What can I do for you?”
“Why, you see, Miss Oliphant,” said Patty, a little uncertain how to begin, “Lorraine Hamilton and I have just the same number of marks on our record. So, as one of us must take the general prize, I just wanted to ask you if you couldn’t arrange it so that Lorraine will get it. I don’t mean to do anything wrong or unfair,” she added, hastily, as Miss Oliphant’s expression of amazement seemed to rebuke her. “I only mean that if there should be any doubt in marking any of our lessons, that the benefit of the doubt might be given to Lorraine.”
“Do I understand,” said Miss Oliphant, severely, “that you wish Miss Hamilton to be marked higher than she deserves?”
Patty thought this remark a little unjust, in consequence of which her indignation was aroused, and she spoke decidedly, though very courteously.
“No, Miss Oliphant, I do not mean that; but I know that sometimes it is difficult for a teacher to feel quite certain of the exact mark for a lesson or a Theme; and in such cases I would be glad if Lorraine might have all that can conscientiously be given to her.”
“And yourself?”
“Oh, Miss Oliphant,” said Patty, quite forgetting her awe of the stern principal in her eagerness, “I know that what I’m saying sounds ridiculous; but you do know—you must know—what I mean! Can’t you somehow fix it that Lorraine shall have a little higher average than I, without committing a State’s Prison offence?”
Miss Oliphant unbent in spite of herself.
“Why do you want to do this, my child?” she asked, more gently than she had spoken before.