"Muriel's favours!" they explained, giggling loudly. "We're all of us
going to vote for her. Isn't it fun?"

Mavis glanced round for Merle, hoping her expedition to the sweet-shop
would not have made her late, and to her relief saw her sitting on the
opposite side of the room, in company with Beata and Romola Castleton,
Fay Macleod, and a number of other new girls whose acquaintance she had
evidently just made. They were passing round chocolates, and seemingly
enjoying themselves. Merle waved a hand gaily at her sister, beckoning
her to join the group, but at that moment Miss Mitchell entered the room,
and all seated themselves on the nearest available benches while the
roll-call was taken.

"We will meet here at four o'clock for the election," said the mistress,
as she closed the register and dismissed the various forms to their
classrooms.

The first day of a new term always seems intolerably long, and with such
an interesting event as a ballot before them most of the girls felt the
hour and a half to drag, and turned many surreptitious glances towards
wrist watches. Merle in especial, who hated French translation, groaned
as she looked up words in the dictionary, and made several stupid
mistakes, because her thoughts were focussed on the election instead of
on the matter in hand. Once she yawned openly, and drew down a reproof
from Mademoiselle, whereupon she heaved a submissive sigh, controlled her
boredom, and went on wearily transferring the flowery sentiments of
Fenelon into the English tongue. At precisely five minutes to four the
big bell clanged out a warning, dictionaries were shut, exercise-books
handed in, pencil-boxes replaced in desks, and the class filed downstairs
to the big schoolroom. Miss Pollard was not there: she was busy in the