Mame Welch in her droll, half-humorous way was the first to speak.
“I do not see why we should trouble ourselves because from one to a half-dozen girls among several hundred see fit to copy and carry ‘ponies’ into class. If they are satisfied, let them do it.”
“But, oh,” cried Carrie Hirsch, not waiting for permission to speak. “It is not fair. It may be so, one girl must hard work; another girl, work not hard. Yet one mark, oh, so high,” she raised her hands to express how high the grades of the delinquent might be, “because into exams she carry papers, or from her friend’s paper she learn all she wishes to write.”
The other members could not suppress a smile as Carrie talked. She was so entirely in earnest, so carried away by her own enthusiasm, and so badly mixed in her English.
It was Landis who again responded. “That is not the spirit in which we have undertaken this correction. To the real student it matters little who may have higher marks than herself. She studies for the love of study and the hope of improvement. Neither should we say that it is nothing to us whether a half-dozen others are dishonest or not. It is something to us—or it should be. We have banded ourselves together as a set of Christian workers, and it should be something to us whether a half-dozen among us are not doing the honorable thing.” There was a war-like tone in Landis’ words. Whatever weakness there was in the girl’s character, she possessed an overwhelming desire to have people believe that she stood on the side of right. She was ambitious to be thought an earnest Christian girl. She would have left no stone unturned to have been a leader among the girls. She was willing to cajole, to cater in order to win friendship. Yet in spite of all her efforts, she influenced only a few. Among those few were none of the stronger girls of Exeter. Min, to be sure, followed close at her heels, and one or two others; but they were not of the brighter lights from either an ethical or intellectual point of view.
“It is our duty to go to them—to talk to them,” she continued.
“And have a hornet’s nest buzzing about your ears,” exclaimed Mary Wilson, disregarding all the rules of Parliamentary law which Dr. Kitchell tried to teach them. She was on her feet, moving to the front, talking as she went. “I really haven’t the self-assertion to walk up to strange students and tell them the error of their ways. To me, that course of action savors too much of conceit of our own virtues. The best we can do is to be perfectly honorable about the examinations. Our mental attitude toward dishonorable proceedings ought to have its influence without our going about making ourselves odious by preaching.”
Someone else took up the discussion. It grew warmer and warmer. Landis maintained the position she took in regard to personal work. In the excitement, several talked at once, forgetting that there was a chairman to whom a certain courtesy was due. Miss Cresswell used the gavel until its sound drowned out the voices. For a time peace reigned again.
During the discussion, Elizabeth leaned forward. This was intensely interesting to her. Her lips were parted, and a flush caused by excitement came to her cheeks. She looked with admiration upon those girls who could talk in public. In her eyes they were gifted creatures more richly blessed than the ordinary mortal like herself. Hitherto she had been fond of spunky little Mary Wilson. Now she admired and looked up to her as one must look up to a person of talents.
Miss O’Day, dressed in a striking gown of imported material, sat by the side of Elizabeth. She must have heard the discussion, yet she made no show of interest, but seemed like one whose thoughts were far off.