Betty looked out at the clear winter sunshine. “I wanted a little walk,” she said. “Let’s go. If it’s long and stupid we can leave; and we ought to be loyal to our class.”
“All right,” agreed Katherine. “I’ll go if you will. I should rather like to see what they have on hand this time.”
“They” meant the Hill-School contingent, who from the initial meeting had continued to run the affairs of the class of 19–. Some of the girls were indignant, and a few openly rebellious, but the majority were either indifferent or satisfied that the Hill clique was as good as any other that might get control in its stead. So the active opposition had been able to accomplish nothing, and Hill’s machine, as a cynical sophomore had dubbed it, had elected its candidates for three class officers and the freshman representative on the Students’ Commission, while the various class committees were largely made up of Jean Eastman’s intimate friends.
“I hope that some of the crowd have nicer manners than our dear Eleanor and are better students,” Mary Brooks had said to Betty. “Otherwise I’m afraid your ship of state will run into a snag of faculty prejudices some fine day.”
Betty belonged to the indifferent faction of the class. She was greatly interested in all its activities, and prepared to be proud of its achievements, but she possessed none of the instincts of a wire-puller. So long as the class offices were creditably filled she cared not who held them, and comparing her ignorance of parliamentary procedure with the glib self-confidence of Jean, Eleanor and their friends, she even felt grateful to them for rescuing the class from the pitfalls that beset inexperience.
Katherine, on the other hand, was a bitter opponent of what she called “ring rule,” and Adelaide Rich, who was the only recruit that they could succeed in adding to their party, had never forgotten the depths of iniquity which her pessimistic acquaintance had revealed in the seemingly innocent and well conducted first meeting, and was prepared to distrust everything, down to the reading of the minutes.
The three were vigorously applauded when they appeared in the door of No. 19, the biggest recitation room in the main building and so the one invariably appropriated to freshman assemblies. Katherine whispered to Mary that she had not known Betty was quite so popular as all that; but a girl on the row behind the one in which they found seats explained matters by whispering that three had been the exact number needed to make up a quorum.
The secretary’s report was hastily read and accepted, and then Miss Eastman stated that the business of the meeting was to elect a class representative for the Washington’s Birthday debate.
“Some of you know,” she continued, “that the Students’ Commission has decided to make a humorous debate the main feature of the morning rally. We and the juniors are to take one side, and the senior and sophomore representatives the other. Now I suppose the first thing to decide is how our representative shall be chosen.”
A buzz of talk spread over the room. “Why didn’t they let us know beforehand–give us time to think who we’d have?” inquired the talkative girl on the row behind.