“Assert yourself as president,” Mildred Ferguson urged Julia in low stormy tones. She was furious at the unexpected intrusion. “What does Miss Remson think she is going to do, I wonder? She’ll not honor the petition. That’s certain. To bring Miss Cairns in here! She means to fight for her and make us a whole lot of trouble—if she can.”
“Oh, those provoking girls!” Julia was ready to cry with chagrin. “They’re letting Miss Harding make perfect geese of them. And all because she is funny, or thinks she is.”
“She’s funny enough,” Mildred admitted sulkily. She turned to listen against her will to Muriel’s flow of inimitable nonsense.
Muriel had ranged Marjorie, Leslie and Doris in a row and was now engaged in busily showing them off to the roomful of girls. She treated them as she might have a collection of bisque dolls. She moved their arms and hands about at will, took them by the shoulders, one after another, spun them round then posed them in a series of ridiculously stiff attitudes. She finally pretended to wind up a mechanism between Marjorie’s shoulders and Marjorie came to life and sang Stevenson’s “In Winter,” in a thin childish voice. She met with a cordial reception.
Doris, when wound up, executed a graceful little dance which was heartily applauded. Leslie came last. She sang a verse of a French song with an artistry of expression and gesture that was a revelation to the audience who had gathered to condemn her. After she had finished and given a funny little exhibition of running down and becoming immobile again an odd silence reigned. It was shattered by a girl’s voice from the back of the room. “Clever, bravo!” she cried. “Encore, encore!”
Next instant the room rang with cries of “Encore!” Muriel favored her audience with a Cheshire puss smile and laboriously wound up Leslie again. She sang the second verse with more clever gestures.
When Muriel could make herself heard she went on to announce that the performance would close with one verse of “Lightly row,” sung by the “Great Little Three.” Then she promised to press speech buttons in the backs of the trio’s necks. The Great Little Three would then thank their audience for their attention.
Rather to her surprise this announcement also elicited approval. She had been afraid the girls would scent a lecture in her words and shy off from it. Instead cries of “Speech! Speech!” ascended.
“Thank you for your appreciation,” Marjorie began in her own sweet tones as Muriel stepped back from pressing the speech button at the nape of her white neck. “We should feel so hurt if we thought you hadn’t liked us. Though we seem only mechanical we have very sensitive feelings. We are glad if we have amused you and we hope you will always think as kindly of us as we think of you.” Thus Marjorie’s little speech ended.
Doris came next. She said with her soft, fascinating drawl: “As I am a dancing doll it is very hard for me to speak. So I will say only that I wish the Orchid Club may flourish long as one of Hamilton’s most representative sororities, with truth, honor and justice for its motto.”