able opposition.

Christine Ellis' nomination of Judith Stearns for president, which was
seconded by Alicia Reynolds, caused one after another of Marian's
adherents to rise to their feet in hot objection. For five minutes or
more the chairman of the nomination committee had her hands full in
subduing the rebels.

Stung by the insult, Judith arose, white with righteous wrath, to
decline the nomination. Repeated cries of, "Sit down, Judy. We want you
for our president!" "What's the matter with Judy? She's _all_ right!"
and, "Judy Stearns or nobody!" drowned the refusal she strove to utter.
In the end she threw up her hands in a gesture of despair and sat down,
amid approving cheers from her triumphant supporters.

The nomination of Alicia Reynolds as vice-president was hardly less
opposed by the other faction, though it was carried in spite of protest.
With deliberate intent to shame, Barbara Temple calmly nominated Maizie
Gilbert as treasurer, thereby astounding the objectors to momentary
dumbness. They soon rallied, however, and one of their number hastily
seconded the nomination, which was carried.

Emboldened to action, Maizie promptly nominated Leila Brookes, one of
her friends, for secretary. This nomination was avidly seconded by
another of Marian's adherents and also carried. Having won their point
against unworthy opposition, the majority could afford to be generous.

The final result of the election found honors equally divided between
the two sets of girls, a condition of affairs which promised anything
but a peaceful year for 19--.

Gathered at Rutherford Inn that evening for a spread in honor of Judith,
given by Christine and Barbara, the latter expressed herself frankly in
regard to the afternoon's proceedings.

"That class meeting was as nearly a riot as could be," she declared
disgustedly. "I expected to engage in hand-to-hand combat before it
ended. I thought the best way to shame that crowd was to give them the
chance, they didn't want to give us."

"They snapped at it, too," Christine Ellis said scornfully.

"I'll never forgive you girls for making me president when I didn't want
to be," was Judith's rueful assertion.

"We would never have forgiven you if you had backed out," retorted Ethel
Lacey.

"I didn't have the least word to say about it. Nobody would listen to
me."

Judith's comical air of resignation provoked a laugh.

"You should thus be pleased that you are well-liked, Judy," a