“What can we do?” sighed Lois. “Assembly Hall will be mobbed by the lower school girls, and you know the noise they make.”
“I have it!” exclaimed Polly. “Let’s get permission from Miss Porter to use the English room, and then each take parts and read ‘The Merchant of Venice’ aloud.”
“Polly, you’re a genius; it’s the very thing,” chorused Lois and Betty.
They started off in the direction of the classroom, but as they passed the Bridge of Sighs, they were stopped by the two Dorothys.
“Where are you going? Come on up to the corridor. Miss King has lent us the electric stove from the infirmary, and we’re going to make candy,” they invited.
“It’s quite regular,” added Dot Mead, by way of explanation. “We have permission.”
Dot had often tried to inveigle the three girls into joining various midnight feasts and forbidden larks of which she was the originator, but had always found them singularly unresponsive.
Don’t think they were prudes, far from it, but
they had learned through close observation that not enough pleasure could be derived from breaking rules to compensate them for the loss of the faculty’s respect and trust. And, above all, their loyalty and love for Seddon Hall prompted them to keep the few simple rules required of them.
Betty regarded the two girls with lofty disdain and assuming an attitude peculiar to the long-suffering chaplain, began in imitation of his manner: