Miss Archer’s quizzical gaze traveled from Muriel’s flushed face to Marjorie’s composed features. Here was, indeed, a problem in that unknown quantity, girl nature. Miss Archer was too thoroughly acquainted with the ways of girls not to comprehend what lay beneath this out and out defiance of Miss Merton’s commands. She understood, if Miss Merton did not, or would not, the rather overdrawn sense of school-girl honor which prompted the rebellion. She knew that except in extreme cases, there was little to be obtained by using force. It was all too likely to defeat its own object.
“The attitude of these two young women toward me is insufferable.” Miss Merton now took up a harsh stand. She did not intend the principal should allow the matter to be passed over lightly. “Miss Dean, in particular, has been most disrespectful. In fact, ever since she became a pupil of this school she has derived an especial delight from annoying me.”
Miss Archer’s face wore an inscrutable expression as she listened. Years of association with Miss Merton had taught her to read between the lines. Yet she knew she must now proceed with the utmost diplomacy. As a teacher Miss Merton was entitled to the respect of her pupils. She had an inner conviction, however, that the irate woman was piling injustice upon Marjorie’s shoulders. She herself was beginning to understand the girl’s motives could never be classed as unworthy. Young in years, she possessed already a breadth of mind which Miss Merton could never hope to attain.
“You are entitled to the utmost respect on the part of your pupils, Miss Merton,” she levelly acknowledged. “I am sorry to hear bad reports of any of my pupils. I am sure that Miss Harding and Miss Dean will rectify the matter with an apology. As for the note, perhaps it might be wiser to allow the matter to drop.”
“Girls,” she now addressed the belligerents, “it seems to me that, as long as note-writing has proved a source of trouble to you, you might better give up the practice. Let me ask you a question. Was there any grave and important reason for writing that note?”
Muriel Harding hung her head. “No, Miss Archer,” came her low answer.
Marjorie’s pale face took on a faint glow of pink. “It was not necessary,” she admitted.
“Very well. You have both agreed that it was unnecessary. My advice to you is to discontinue the practice. I must insist that both of you make apology to Miss Merton for the annoyance you have caused.”
“Miss Merton, I regret that you should have been annoyed by me.” Marjorie made an immediate and dignified apology, which was perfectly sincere on her part. For more reasons than one she deplored the annoyance.
Muriel, however, hesitated a second or two before committing herself. Suddenly it dawned upon her that Miss Archer’s demand for apology had a deeper significance. She thereupon made haste to repeat Marjorie’s exact words.