“Say, Glo!” in quick succession interrupted Pat. “Whatever has come over you? Why the martyr’s crown?”
Gloria swung her chin around and up high in mock contempt. “I was never sure I’d like boarding school,” she remarked evenly. “Now I know I don’t,” she declared emphatically.
“Just because catty Jean Engle digs——”
“No, Pat, that isn’t it. It’s because I’m not the sort that fits in.”
“You’re not the sort that follows the crowd,” broke in Trixy, “but you do fit in, Gloria. Any one can follow the band wagon,” declared Trixy with unmistakable scorn.
“What made you jump so, Mary?” asked the outspoken little Pat. “Do you hate band wagons worse than ‘pizen’?”
“Yes,” said Mary quite helplessly, and even Gloria stared in surprise.
“Seems to me we better adjourn, as the lawyers say ‘sine die.’ We are having such a deplorable time,” concluded Trixy. Even her good nature could be tried too far.
Gloria got to her feet first and looked resolutely at the big building on the hill top.
“Don’t go hating it,” cautioned Trixy, kindly sensing her emotion.