“He had it, didn’t he?” laughed Winifred.
“He had a hard time getting Mrs. Gilpin’s consent. She treats him as if he were a little boy, worse’n Mother does me, but he doesn’t get mad at all. He thinks she’s the most wonderful woman in the world, but I must find him and put myself right with him before we go home and tackle her. He’ll need my help then more’n he did makin’ that beastly sled! It was awful—really awful—the way he went rolling down that icy slide, but to save my life I can’t help laughing when I think of it. Can you?”
At the lad’s absurd movements, as he now pictured John’s remarkable “ride” they all laughed; but suddenly Dorothy demanded:
“You sit right down yonder on that settle and wait for me. You can’t find Mr. Gilpin, now, he’s far on the road home. But there’s something I must ask Miss Tross-Kingdon—”
“No! You don’t ask Miss Tross-Kingdon one single thing till I’ve had my ask first, Dorothy Calvert! Here I’m nearly crazy, trying to hold in my secret, and—”
“I claim my chance too! I’ve a petition of my own if you please and let the first to arrive win!” shouted Gwendolyn, speeding after the other two toward the “audience chamber.”
Thus deserted, Robin laughed and curled up on the bench to wait; while the Lady Principal’s sanctum was boisterously invaded by three petitioners, forgetful of the required decorum, and each trying to forestall the others, with her:
“Oh! Miss Muriel, may I—?” “Please, Miss Tross-Kingdon, my father’s—”
“Hear me first, dear Lady Principal, before he gets away. Can—”