Both girls were handsome—Miriam tall, dark and oriental-looking, with flashing eyes and an imperious curve to her lips; Grace was also tall, with wavy, chestnut hair, fine gray eyes, regular features, a full, generous chin and cheeks glowing with health.
Miriam Nesbit had already done a good deal of lobbying when the three girls arrived on the scene. She wished to be elected captain of the team at any cost; but Grace's adherents were holding off, quietly waiting for her arrival.
"Well, here you are at last!" said Marian Barber, who had been preparing the ballots for the coming election.
Marian was the busy girl of the class, and always made herself useful.
"Is everyone here?" demanded Nora, scanning the crowd of freshmen with a view to ascertaining what her chum's chances were.
"All that intend coming," replied Miriam. "The softies stayed away, as usual."
"Suppose we wait five minutes," said Grace, looking at her watch, "and then, if no one comes, we will cast the votes."
"No, no," exclaimed Miriam impatiently. "I have an engagement and can't spare any more time. I vote that we have the election at once, without waiting another moment."
"Very well," assented Grace. "I only suggested waiting because Anne Pierson promised to come, and, of course, every girl in the class has a right to vote at the class elections."
"Anne Pierson?" cried Miriam, turning crimson with suppressed rage.