make arrangements to live at another
campus house."

Thus far neither girl had been given the least opportunity of speaking.
As it happened, neither had the slightest desire to speak. Both were
feeling too intensely relieved for words. First to recover from the good
news that she and Maizie would escape the punishment they merited,
Marian Seaton now said with a faint touch of asperity:

"Why won't you allow us to come back to Madison Hall next year, Mrs.
Weatherbee? We prefer it to any other campus house. If we give you our
word of honor to let Judith Stearns and her crowd alone, isn't that
sufficient?"

"No, Miss Seaton, it is not. I repeat that you must make other
arrangements for next year. One thing more and we will conclude this
interview. You must both pledge yourselves to good behavior while you
are here. If I hear of any attempts on your part to malign a fellow
student, either by word or deed, I shall revoke my decision and put your
case before Miss Rutledge. Nothing except absolute fair play on your
part will be tolerated here. That is all. You are at liberty to go."

Fighting back her anger, Marian arose, and with a stiff, "Thank you,
Mrs. Weatherbee," walked to the door. She was congratulating herself
that she had not been forced to ask favors of that "hard-hearted old
tyrant."

Maizie rose, but made no attempt to follow Marian. Instead she raised
unfathomable black eyes to the matron and said:

"You are kinder to us than we deserve. I thank you."

Then she turned abruptly and followed Marian from the room.

Back in their own room, she walked over to her bed and sat down on it
and eyed Marian reflectively.

"Well, what's the matter with you?" asked Marian crossly. "You make me
tired. Why did you say to that old dragon that she'd been kinder to us
than we deserved? It wasn't necessary. The idea of her turning us out of
Madison Hall. And we can't do anything to stop her, either. She has the
whip hand and she knows it. It's a positive outrage and the whole affair
is Elsie's fault, the hateful little hypocrite. She'll be sorry. I'll
never rest until I pay her back for this."

"It strikes me," drawled Maizie, "that there's been altogether too much
of this 'paying back' business. You'd best drop it, Marian. You are not
a success in that line. As for me, I'm tired of it. I used to think it
great fun and exciting, but now I know that it's petty, mean and
unworthy. If I could be as true to myself as Jane