Mary was next door, and just beyond was Professor Newton’s sitting-room; for the girls had been able to carry out the plan that Mary had proposed at the close of the freshmen year.
Margaret Hamilton looked into their room as they were giving the finishing touches.
“May I come in, or are you too busy to talk?”
“As if we were ever too busy to talk to our president,” said Dolly promptly, pushing her guest down into an easy chair.
“I shall not be president after this week, you know, and that is what brought me here. Who is your candidate for the place?”
“Not Dolly,” said Beth promptly. “I have set my heart on her being president during our senior year.”
Margaret’s brow cleared. “She would make a capital president for our last year, and I pledge myself to work for her. Now, as she is out of the question, for the present, I want to tell you that my candidate is Elizabeth Newby.”
“How perfectly absurd!” That was Beth’s exclamation, of course.
“It is not absurd, and I want you, please, to listen to me. She can be elected, for the girls have not forgotten how grateful they were to her for saving our reputation at the entertainment last fall. There is no other strong candidate. Of course, ever so many names will be proposed in as large a class as ours, but the only one who will carry many votes is Hazel Fox.”
“Hazel Fox!” the girls both exclaimed aghast.