ing.

"I don't suppose that matters. Everybody isn't so viper-critical," she
retorted. "Shall I pin it up here or in the gym.?"

"It will be more seen here; but I warn you, Dorothy, I don't think the
girls will like it."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's clever enough, but it's cheeky. I'm afraid somehow it won't
catch on. If you take my advice, you'll tear it up and just write 'Vote
for Dorothy Greenfield' instead."

But taking other people's advice was not at present included in
Dorothy's scheme of existence; she much preferred her own ideas, however
crude.

"I'll leave it as it is," she answered loftily. "It can't fail to
attract attention anyhow."

"As you like. By the by, if you're going round canvassing, there's been
a new----"

But Dorothy did not wait to listen. She was annoyed at Mavie's scant
appreciation of her poetic effort; and having manifested her
independence by pinning the offending verses on the notice board, she
stalked away, trying to look nonchalant. She was determined to use every
means at hand to ensure success, and her best plan seemed to be to go
round personally soliciting votes.

"I'll tackle the dinner girls now," she thought, "and I expect there'll
be just time to catch the others when they come back in the afternoon.
Thank goodness the election is only among the Third and Fourth! It would
be terrible if one had to go all round the school. Why, I never asked
Mavie! How stupid! But she's certain to be on my side; she detests Val,
and she's not particularly fond of Hope either, though of course there's
Grace. Had I better go back and make sure of her?"

On the whole she decided that as she had left Mavie in rather a high and
mighty manner, it would seem a little beneath her dignity to return at
once and beg a favour, so she went into the playground instead to beat
up possible electors. She was not the first in the field, by any means.
Already Valentine Barnett and her satellites were hard at work coaxing
and wheedling, while the emissaries of Doris Earnshaw and Noelle Kennedy
were urging the qualifications of their particular favourites. Hope
Lawson was seated on the see-saw in company with a number of small girls
from the Lower Second.

"What's she doing that for?" thought Dorothy. "Those kids haven't got
votes. It's sheer waste of time to bother with them. She's actually put
her arm round that odious little Maggie Muir, and taken Nell Boughton on
her knee! I shouldn't care to make myse