Eleanor stood clenching her hands in impotent rage. Grace's plain speaking had roused a tempest in her.
"I hate you, Grace Harlowe, fifty times more than ever before," she said, her voice shaking with anger. "I intended to leave this miserable school at the end of the year, but now I shall stay and show you that you cannot trample upon me with impunity."
Without answering, Grace walked away, leaving Eleanor to stare moodily after her.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE JUNIOR PICNIC
With the first days of spring, the longing to throw down her books and fairly live in the open returned to Grace Harlowe with renewed force.
"I do wish school were over," she said with a sigh to her three chums, as they strolled home one afternoon in May. "I don't mind studying in the winter, but when the spring comes, then it's another matter. I long to golf and play tennis, and picnic in the woods and——"
"That reminds me," said Nora, interrupting her, "that last fall the juniors talked about giving a picnic instead of a ball. We didn't give the ball, so it's up to us to go picnicking."
"That's a fine suggestion, Nora," said Jessica. "I move we post a notice in the locker-room and have a meeting to-morrow after school.