A louder scream from the hallway made the girls rush out unceremoniously.
CHAPTER XI
At the farther end of the corridor, a crowd had gathered, and the three girls hurrying there, found that the commotion issued from Charlotte Graves’s room.
Charlotte was explaining; “It was my exasperating lamp. It has always been wobbly, and tonight, when I chanced to hit the table, it went over. I might have known enough to pull a blanket off the bed, and smother it; but, of course, I just stood here and screamed. Then Margaret Hamilton came in and put it out. That’s what it is to have presence of mind! I always was a fool when there was anything to be done. I tell you what, Miss Hamilton, those freshmen knew what they were doing when they elected you class president. If I’m not brilliant myself, I can recognize a good thing when I see it.”
“Miss Graves, I tell you what you must do in sheer gratitude to the freshmen–invite us all in and get out those delicious cakes and pickles of yours. You ought to treat.”
“That is certainly so, come along, all of you. Sit on the floor if you can’t find any other place to sit,” and after the girls had properly bestowed themselves, she got out her jars and boxes, for Charlotte was fond of good things and always kept an unlimited supply on hand.
“I trust you understand,” she said severely, “that the rest of you freshmen are only here out of compliment to your president. I don’t for a moment consider the rest of you her equal in anything. As she has the misfortune, however, to belong to the class of ’09 instead of ’08, we must put up with the rest of you, I suppose, for her sake.”
There was a chorus of groans from the freshmen, and Charlotte’s voice was drowned in an outburst of animated retorts. Under cover of the fun, Abby Dunbar said to Dolly, who chanced to be sitting next to her on the window ledge; “One can see that Margaret is a true aristocrat. It shows in every move she makes, and every word she says.”
“Do you think so?”