to be a referendum of both Seniors and Juniors," replied
Helen sharply.

"That's only fair. This is a public Annual Meeting, and we want to do
everything in order."

Helen conferred again with her own Form. By all rules of general
meetings, it was impossible to refuse a referendum if called for. They
were obliged, therefore, to submit with the best grace they could, and
to deal out the voting papers.

"Those in favour of union with the present Guilds kindly put a nought,
and those in favour of separation a cross," commanded Helen. "Any paper
with anything more on it will be disqualified. Girls! I make a last
appeal to you to remember our old traditions, and to resist these
innovations. Be loyal to your monitresses!"

"Old traditions are sometimes bad traditions," exclaimed Hetty Hancock,
metaphorically flinging back the gauntlet. "We're ready to obey our
monitresses on questions of school rules, but we're not Saxon serfs.
Fair play is a jewel! We Juniors haven't had it yet, and we mean to get
it. Girls! Be loyal to the Lower School!"

The Juniors snatched their voting papers with hot eagerness, and for a
moment or two there was a silence in the room, while the necessary
noughts or crosses were being registered. The Seniors were feeling
decidedly blue, but for appearances' sake they kept up a show of
confidence.

"I think one of us is entitled to help to check the counting," said
Hetty, as the papers were collected and handed to the monitresses.

"Oh, certainly! Please come and satisfy yourselves," returned Helen
bitterly.

So the votes were counted by Lena Morris and Ada Dawkins on behalf of
the Seniors, and by Hetty and Gipsy on behalf of the Juniors. The latter
had not doubted the result, but to the Upper School the figures were
startling:

Separation 65
Union 28
___
Majority for Separation 37

Only six of the younger girls, therefore, had voted for the old regime,
and the victory of the Lower School was complete. A mad scene of
triumph ensued. The Juniors clapped and cheered, and waved their
handkerchiefs in the exuberance of their enthusiasm; and as the
discomfited Seniors beat a hasty retreat, the meeting broke up amid the
roar of exultant hurrahs, and an impromptu chorus started by Gipsy and
taken up by a dozen jubilant voices:

"Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!
Jun