"Nonsense! Don't put such ideas in her head," cried Patricia stabbing her hat-pins into her hat to secure it on the hanger. "Of course, she'll be sorry for part of it, but right is right, and justice ought to be done. But there, I'll blab it all myself if I don't look out. Hurry up, Judy, let's get the cocoa stewing while Elinor prinks."
They had the table arranged in gala array, and the cocoa steaming in its receptacle, before Elinor and Margaret Howes joined them.
"Griffin says not to wait—she's got to finish stretching a canvas," Margaret Howes told them, but Patricia and Judith would not hear to beginning the little feast without the staunch and genial Griffin.
"There's no hurry, anyway," insisted Patricia. "The cocoa will keep hot on the corner of the stove and the rest of the things don't matter. You girls haven't any classes this afternoon, so we have an eternity to feed in."
They loitered about the room, chatting at various tables, and were taken by surprise at last by the breathless arrival of their late guest. She hailed them with an air of the bearer of important news, and as soon as they were ensconced in their corner with the cocoa safely bestowed on a stool at Patricia's right hand, she opened her heart.
"Awful row in the Committee room," she announced gleefully. "Good old Greenie marched right in to the grave and reverend seniors while they were in session just now, and she gave them ballyhoo. She called it a remonstrance in the cause of justice, but, my word, it was ripping!"
"What was it all about?" asked Patricia, much diverted by the picture of the mournful monitor facing the dreaded Board. "What did she say?"
Griffin chuckled. "You see, I was in the ante-room, cataloguing the prints—you know I got that job last week. Well, the Board was droning on in the big room in their usual uninteresting fashion and I was deep in admiration of a Rembrandt etching—that one with the hat and the open window behind him—when Green sails past me, head up and majesty writ large on her bulging brow. She always does put on lugs when she reports to the Committee, so I didn't sit up and take notice right away. But in a minute or two I came to life, I can tell you! She was rolling off the sentences about 'injustice to a high-minded student' and 'unnecessary humiliation' and 'reparation to one who was an ornament to any school,' and a lot of other junk like that. I tell you, I could have hugged the old girl! The Board just sat still, like school-boys caught stealing jam, and she went on, getting more flowery all the time."
"But what—" began Patricia again.
Griffin waved her to silence. "All of a sudden she seemed to realize that she was giving them a drubbing instead of a gentle rebuke. She hauled in her sails and stood winking at them behind her huge spectacles, while they all sat staring at her. It was a picture, I can tell you. Then dear old Farrer cleared his throat in that nervous way he has, and he bowed to Bottle Green as though she were the finest ever. 'We have heard with surprise and I am sure with regret,' he says, 'Miss Green's account of this matter. I think we will all agree that an investigation should be undertaken, and if there has been injustice done, such reparation as is possible shall be made.' Then they came and closed the door and I lit out for here. You've got a fine champion, Kendall Major, and we'll all see you through if it comes to a public demonstration, you can gamble on that!"