“But, as Poppy says, it’s never wise to attach too much importance to the mistakes of a new girl,” Marion West, vice-president of the class, replied.
Poppy looked at the three Sophomores before her.
“Have you all any suggestions?” she inquired.
Gladys and Sally looked at Ann.
“Perhaps a gentle little boycott might help,” she suggested quietly.
“It’s just as hard on our wing, if not worse, than it is on yours,” Stella Richardson, one of the Seniors who lived in the new wing, spoke up. “There isn’t one of us who wouldn’t gladly drown the little wretch, and the trouble is, she’s gotten some of the new girls and talked to them until they feel it’s a positive virtue to be rude every time they see one of you.”
“Oh, it’s all too nonsensical,” Gwen exploded. “Good old wings, who dares to take our happy fight and make an ugly thing out of it?”
“My thumbs are down for anyone who dares,” Ruth Hall announced. She roomed in the new wing with Stella Richardson.
Gwendolyn Matthews might have been said to have snorted with rage. She was a splendid healthy specimen of girlhood; a mind capable of small and mean thoughts was beneath her contempt. She walked out on the balcony, her back to the rest of the room.
A minute later she beckoned cautiously to the girls to follow her. They crowded out on the balcony on tip-toe and peered down as Gwen directed.