“Very well.” Ellen bowed her acceptance of the dismissal. “Shall we consider the matter settled?”
“Certainly not.” The words leaped sharply to the woman’s lips. Realizing she had blundered, she hastily amended. “There is no matter under consideration between you and me.”
“Whatever concerns Marjorie’s basket ball interests, concerns me. If you send for her again she will not come to you unless we come with her. Am I not right?” She appealed for information to the subject of the discussion.
“You are,” was the steady reply.
“This is simply outrageous.” Miss Davis completely lost composure. “Do you realize all of you that you are absolutely defying your teacher? Miss Dean deserves to be disciplined. After such a display of discourtesy I refuse to allow her the privilege of playing on the junior basket ball team.” Miss Davis continued to express herself, unmindful of the fact that Muriel Harding had slipped away from the group and out of the nearest door. Her temper aroused she held forth at length, ending with: “This disgraceful exhibition of favoritism on your part, Miss Seymour, shows very plainly that you are not fitted to manage basket ball in this school. I shall replace you as manager to-morrow. You, Miss Dean, are dismissed from the junior team. I shall report every one of you to Miss Archer as soon as I leave the gymnasium.”
“I believe she is on her way here now,” remarked Ellen with satirical impersonality. “Muriel went to find her and ask her to come.”
“What!” Miss Davis betrayed small pleasure at this news. Quickly recovering herself she ordered: “You may go at once.”
“Here she is.” Ellen nodded toward a doorway through which the principal had just entered, Muriel only a step behind her. The senior manager’s eyes twinkled satisfaction.
“What seems to be the trouble here, Miss Davis?” The principal came pithily to the point.
“I have been insulted by these disrespectful girls.” Miss Davis waved a hand toward the defending sextette.