Hardly were the words out of her mouth than her listeners fell to disputing again.
‘Rope-climbing–Barbara!’ asserted Jean.
‘What are you talking about?’ cried Mary, with contempt. ‘Barbara is simply not in it with Charlotte; and what’s more, you know she isn’t, Jean Murray.’
‘Oh, the wicked stories some people can tell,’ sighed Angela. ‘Have you seen Barbara Berkeley swarm up the––’
‘Please, please don’t,’ implored Babs. ‘Can’t you see that Hurly-Burly wants to say something else?’
Being the champion in question, she could not very well side with Jean, as she usually did. Her appeal had some effect on the disputants, and Miss Burleigh, remembering it was a half-holiday, shrugged her shoulders good-naturedly and took advantage of the pause to proceed.
‘The display will take place at five o’clock on Thursday,’ she proclaimed; ‘supper will be at seven, and after supper, the Canon, who is coming from the North on purpose, will give away the prizes to the two successful competitors––’
‘That’s Margaret and Charlotte Bigley,’ interrupted Mary, noisily; and Hurly-Burly gave it up and fled, with her hands over her ears, just as Angela, with a yell of defiance, lost her balance and plunged down head-first from her perch on the vaulting-horse.
‘No, no! Margaret and Jean!’ she gasped out breathlessly, as she scrambled up again from the floor and brushed the dust from her hands and knees.
Jean sprang to her feet on the top of the vaulting-horse, and danced up and down in her excitement.