t's absurd nonsense!"

"_Everybody_ talks before nine!"

"You bet Vivien does herself!"

"I'm not going to sit still," piped Effie.

"Remember Vivien's coming back," warned Marjorie.

"She won't come back for a few minutes!" grinned Effie, hopping between
the desks, "and I don't care if she does, either! I'm not afraid of
Vivien! She may jaw away as much as she likes. It amuses her, and it
doesn't hurt me. So there we are. See?"

Some of the girls sniggered, and Effie, encouraged by popular
approbation, waxed more reckless still. She danced to the blackboard,
seized the chalk, and began to draw.

"Here's Vivien's portrait," she announced. "This is her long nose, and
this is her mouth, and this is her hair."

"Oh, it _is_ like her!" chirruped Gracie.

"The very image!" hinnied Doris.

"Shut up, Effie, and rub it off, you silly cockchafer," recommended
Marjorie, giggling in spite of herself.

"No, no! I haven't finished. I must put her blouse and swanky tie. Wait
a sec!" cried the artist, drawing in those details and adding a large
balloon issuing from the mouth of her model, and containing the words:
"No talking, girls!"

"You'll be caught," urged Marjorie, seizing the duster to clean the
blackboard. Effie snatched it out of her hand.

"All right, Grannie. Half a sec. more! I've just time!"

And she scrawled hastily over the top of the portrait: "This is old
Vivien."

The last half second was the undoing of Effie, for at that very same
instant the monitress reentered the room. Effie wiped the blackboard
with frantic speed, but not before Vivien had caught a clear view of her
portrait. She glared first at Effie, who had skipped back to her place,
then at the nine other conscious faces. Finally she announced:

"You'll every one of you report yourselves to me at four o'clock this
afternoon. I shall expect you in the handicraft room, and you'll each
bring a poetry book with you. I shall stay here now until Miss Poole
comes. I'm not going to have this form a bear-garden."

The mistress, entering almost immediately, looked rather astonished to
see Vivien standing by her desk. Her enquiring glance asked an
explanation.

"It was necessary for someone to come in here and keep order, Miss
Poole," vouchsafed Vivien.

The mistress turned a reproachful eye on her flock.

"I thought I could have trusted you, girls! I'm sorry to hear you've not
been behaving yourselves."

The form focused indignant glances a