“Such fun!” she whispered; “I never thought of this before! We can have parties in study hours, and all sorts of things.”
“Oh, go back, Rosy!” whispered Clover in agonized entreaty, though laughing all the time.
“Go back? Not at all! I’m coming in,” answered Rose, pulling herself through a little farther. But at that moment the door opened: there stood Miss Jane! She had caught the buzz of voices, as she passed in the hall, and had entered to see what was going on.
Rose, dreadfully frightened, made a rapid movement to withdraw. But the space was narrow, and she had wedged herself, and could move neither backward nor forward. She had to submit to being helped through by Miss Jane, in a series of pulls, while Katy and Clover sat by, not daring to laugh or to offer assistance. When Rose was on her feet, Miss Jane released her with a final shake, which she seemed unable to refrain from giving.
“Go to your room,” she said; “I shall report all of you young ladies for this flagrant act of disobedience.”
Rose went, and in two minutes the drawer, which Miss Jane had replaced, opened again, and there was this note:—
“If I’m never heard of more, give my love to my family, and
mention how I died. I forgive my enemies; and leave Clover
my band bracelet.
“My blessings on you both.
“With the deepest regard,
“Your afflicted friend, R. R.”
Mrs. Florence was very angry on this occasion, and would listen to no explanations, but gave Katy and Clover a “disobedience mark” also. This was very unfair, and Rose felt dreadfully about it. She begged and entreated; but Mrs. Florence only replied: “There is blame on both sides, I have no doubt.”
“She’s entirely changed from what she used to be,” declared Rose. “I don’t know what’s the matter; I don’t like her half so much as I did.”
The truth was, that Mrs. Florence had secretly determined to give up her connection with the school at midsummer; and, regarding it now rather as Mrs. Nipson’s school than her own, she took no pains to study character or mete out justice carefully among scholars with whom she was not likely to have much to do.
Chapter VI.
The S. S. U. C
It was Saturday afternoon; and Clover, having finished her practising, dusting, and mending, had settle herself in No. 6 for a couple of hours of quiet enjoyment. Every thing was in beautiful order to meet Miss Jane’s inspecting eye; and Clover, as she sat in the rocking chair, writing-case in lap, looked extremely cosy and comfortable.
A half-finished letter to Elsie lay in the writing-case; but Clover felt lazy, and instead of writing was looking out of window in a dreamy way, to where Berry Searles and some other young men were playing ball in the yard below. She was not thinking of them or of any thing else in particular. A vague sense of pleasant idleness possessed her, and it was like the breaking of a dream when the door opened and Katy came in, not quietly after her wont, but with a certain haste and indignant rustle as if vexed by something. When she saw Clover at the window, she cried out hastily, “O Clover, don’t’!”
“Don’t what?” asked Clover, without turning her head.
“Don’t sit there looking at those boys.”
“Why? why not? They can’t see me. The blinds are shut.”
“No matter for that. It’s just as bad as if they could see you. Don’t do it. I can’t bear to have you.”
“Well, I won’t then,” said Clover good-humoredly, facing round with her back to the window. “I wasn’t looking at them either,—not exactly. I was thinking about Elsie and John, and wondering—But what’s the matter, Katy? What makes you fire up so about it? You’ve watched the ball-playing yourself plenty of times.”
“I know I have, and I didn’t mean to be cross, Clovy. The truth is I am all put out. These girls with incessant talk about the students make me absolutely sick. It is so unladylike, and so bad, especially for the little ones. Fancy that mite of a Carrie Steele informing me that she is “in love” with Harry Crosby. In love! A baby like that! She has no business to know that there is such a thing.”
“Yes,” said Clover laughing: “she wrote his name on a wintergreen lozenge, and bored a hole and hung it round her neck on a blue ribbon. But it melted and stuck to her frock, and she had to take it off.”
“Whereupon she ate it,” added Rose, who came in at that moment.
The girls shouted, but Katy soon grew grave. “One can’t help laughing,” she said, “but isn’t it a shame to have such things going on? Just fancy our Elsie behaving so, Clover! Why, papa would have a fit. I declare, I’ve a great mind to get up a society to put down flirting.”
“Do!” said Rose. “What fun it would be! Call it ‘The Society for the Suppression of Young Men.’ I’ll join.”
“You, indeed!” replied Katy, shaking her head. “Didn’t I see Berry
Searles throw a bunch of syringa into your window only this morning?”
“Dear me! did he? I shall have to speak to Mary again. It’s quite shocking to have her go on so. But really and truly do let us have a Society. It would be so jolly. We could meet on Saturday afternoons, and write pieces and have signals and a secret, as Sylvia’s Society did when she was at school. Get one up, Katy,— that’s a dear.”
“But,” said Katy, taken aback by having her random idea so suddenly adopted, “if I did get one up, it would be in real earnest, and it would be a society against flirting. And you know you can’t help it, Rosy.”
“Yes, I can. You are doing me great injustice. I don’t behave like those girls in Attic Row. I never did. I just bow to Berry and the rest whom I really know,—never to anybody else. And you must see, Katherine darling, that it would be the height of ingratitude if I didn’t bow to the boys who made mud pies for me when I was little, and lent me their marbles, and did all sorts of kind things. Now wouldn’t it?”—coaxingly.
“Per—haps,” admitted Katy, with a smile. “But you’re such a witch!”
“I’m not,—indeed I’m not. I’ll be a pillar of society if only you’ll provide a Society for me to be a pillar of. Now, Katy, do—ah, do, do!”
When Rose was in a coaxing mood, few people could resist her. Katy yielded, and between jest and earnest the matter was settled. Katy was to head the plan and invite the members.
“Only a few at first,” suggested Rose. “When it is proved to be a success, and everybody wants to join, we can let in two or three more as a great favor. What shall the name be? We’ll keep it a secret, whatever it is. There’s no fun in a society without a secret.”
What should the name be? Rose invented half a dozen, each more absurd than the last. “The Anti-Jane Society” would sound well, she insisted. Or, no!—the “Put-him-down-Club” was better yet! Finally they settled upon “The Society for the Suppression of Unladylike Conduct.”
“Only we’ll never use the