Monitress Merle | Page 8

and Nesta Pitman, but the remaining two are to be balloted for from among the list of candidates. As perhaps some of you don't understand a ballot, I will tell you just what to do. I have written on the blackboard the names of those girls who have been nominated:
"Muriel Burnitt.
"Aubrey Simpson.
"Edith Carey.
"Mavis Ramsay.
"Merle Ramsay.
"What I want you to do is to write on your piece of paper the names of the two candidates for whom you wish to vote, then fold your paper and hand it in. You must not add your own name to it, and you have no need to tell anybody how you voted. The whole principle of a ballot is that it is done in secret. Are you ready? Then please begin."
The little ceremony was soon over, the girls scribbled rapidly, folded their papers, and passed them along the benches to Nesta and Iva, who collected them and gave them to Miss Mitchell.
"It will take a short time to count the votes," explained the mistress. "Those girls who wish to go home can do so, but any who like to wait and hear the result can stay."
Miss Mitchell and Miss Fanny retired to the study and the meeting broke up. Most of the day-girls put on their hats and coats in readiness to go home, but hung about the hall until the names should be announced. The contingent from Chagmouth, whose car was stationed outside in the road, and whose driver was waxing impatient, were obliged to depart without the exciting news. Merle went as far as the gate to watch them pack into their 'sardine-tin.' Four sat behind, and two in front with the chauffeur, all quite radiant and thoroughly enjoying themselves.
"Good-bye! I hope you'll win!" said Beata, waving a hand to Merle with difficulty, for she was tightly sandwiched between Fay and Tattie. "We did our best for you and Mavis. I didn't know any of those others. Romola, have you got the books? That's all right. I was afraid we'd left the satchel. Yes," (to the chauffeur) "we're quite ready now, thanks! Ta-ta, Merle! Good luck to you! We're off!"
Merle, looking after the retreating car, was joined by Aubrey Simpson, rather injured, and disconsolate.
"I didn't know all these new girls were to have votes," she grumbled. "How can they choose a monitress when they don't know anybody! It's rather humbug, isn't it?"
"They know me" perked Merle.
"Did you canvass them? Oh, how mean!"
"Why mean? You could have done it yourself. Muriel was canvassing among the juniors as hard as she could go."
"I might have canvassed among the new boarders! Why didn't I think of it?" wailed Aubrey.
"Well, really, it's your own stupid fault! Don't blame me!" snapped Merle.
"Iva and Nesta said they didn't mean to ask for votes."
"Well, they'd no need to. They were both jolly certain that Miss Pollard would make them monitresses. It's easy to talk loftily when you're sure of your innings."
"Did Mavis canvass?"
"No--but then, of course, Mavis wouldn't!"
"Why not?"
"Oh-because she's Mavis! I can't see her doing it somehow. What a long time Miss Mitchell and Miss Fanny are over their counting! I wish they'd hurry up. I want to go home to tea."
The girls had not much longer, however, to wait.
In the course of a few minutes the new mistress entered the hall and read out the important result.
"The polling is as follows," she announced.
"Muriel Burnitt . . . 27 Mavis Ramsay . . . 20 Merle Ramsay . . . 19 Edith Carey . . . 14 Aubrey Simpson . . . 12
"The two monitresses elected, therefore, are Muriel Burnitt and Mavis Ramsay."
Some of the girls raised a cheer, others took no notice; Miss Mitchell, who seemed in a hurry, vanished back into the study. The boarders, hearing their tea-bell, made for the hostel.
"Congrats, Mavis!" said Iva, as she walked away arm-in-arm with Nesta. "I'm glad the lot has fallen on you. Muriel was pretty sure of a walk-over, but it was a toss-up who was to be the fourth. I don't mind telling you I voted for you myself. And so did Nesta, I'm sure."
"It was a ballot, and I'm not going to let out whom I voted for!" declared Nesta. "Some people can't keep their own secrets! All the same, I'm glad it's you, Mavis. I wouldn't have had Aubrey a monitress for worlds."
The Ramsays walked home together along the High Street to Bridge House. Muriel Burnitt, escorted by Florrie and Viola Leach and the three little Andrews, was on in front, pluming herself upon her victory. The Careys had disappeared down the short cut to the Vicarage. Mavis hardly dared to look at Merle. The latter kept her face turned away and blinked her eyes hard. She had enough self-restraint not to weep openly in