"Upon my word!" cried Blanche Haight, who had not spoken yet. "This seems to be a pretty state of things. Perhaps you are not aware, Miss Montfort, that this exit was used, long before you came to adorn the school with your presence. We acknowledge no right of yours to forbid us the use of it. Stand out of the way, please."
For a reply, Peggy backed against the window; her face assumed an expression with which her family was acquainted.
"When Peggy looks dour," Jean used to say, "look out for rising winds and a falling barometer!"
Then Viola came forward, and began to plead, in her pretty, wheedling way.
"Let us go, just this once; that's a dear, good Veezy. I know what has happened; Miss Russell has found out, hasn't she?"
Peggy nodded.
"And she has spoken to you, and of course I know just how you feel. But you see, Peggy, we have an appointment this time, truly we have, with some college girls, and you wouldn't make us break it, would you, Veezy? Of course you don't want us to go, and we won't again,—at least most probably we won't, if it is going to get you into trouble. But we really have to go this time, Peggy, dear, so do be nice and sweet, and let us pass."
"No," said Peggy. "I'm sorry, Viola, but it's no use. Nothing you can say will make any difference."
"Possibly not!" said Blanche Haight; she pushed Viola aside without ceremony, and came close to Peggy.
"Possibly nothing we can say will make a difference, Miss Montfort, but something we can do may make a good deal. I ask you, fair and square, will you come away from that window? We are six to one, and I give you the chance of settling this in a quiet and friendly way. Will you come away from that window?"