“Not half a bad speech!” murmured Garnet approvingly by her side.

Winona started, and came back from the clouds.

“I think it’s—­just immense!” she answered with a long sigh of admiration.

Margaret was again ringing the bell for silence.

“I’m glad to find you all agree with me,” she announced.  “Now I want us to get solidly to business, and elect a Games Captain.  You remember I asked each to nominate a candidate, and I find that more than two-thirds have handed in the same name—­that of Kirsty Paterson.  I therefore put Kirsty up for election.  It’s only fair that I should first go over her qualifications for the office.  She was our best center forward last year at hockey, and our best bowler at cricket.  She’s a thoroughly steady and reliable player herself, and—­this is most important—­she’s able to train others.  You know from experience that she’s fair and just, and she’s tremendously keen.  I feel sure that in her hands the games would prosper, and we’d soon show some improvement.  Will all those in favor of electing Kirsty kindly stand up?”

There was such a general rising among the girls that most presidents would have considered the matter settled.  Margaret, however, liked to do things strictly in order.

“Thanks I Will you please sit down again.  Now those against the election kindly stand.”

A certain section in the school had intended to vote against Kirsty, but when they saw themselves so enormously outnumbered, they changed their minds.  To belong to a minority often means to be unpopular, and it is wise to go with the stream.  After all, Kirsty was a thoroughly eligible and desirable candidate.  So though a few neighbors elbowed each other, nobody rose.

Margaret waited a moment.

“Do I understand that you’re all in favor?  Then the motion is carried unanimously.  I’m very glad, for I think Kirsty will make an ideal captain.  Let’s give three cheers for her.  Are you ready?  Hip-hip-hip hooray!”

The girls responded with full lung power.  Some even began to sing:  “For she’s a jolly good fellow!” and there was a general outcry of “Speech!  Speech!” The blushing Kirsty—­a bonny, rosy, athletic looking lassie—­was seized by her fellow prefects, and dragged, in spite of her protests, to the front of the platform.  Kirsty had been born north of the Tweed, and in moments of excitement her pretty Scottish burr asserted itself.

“It’s verra kind of you to elect me,” she began.  “I’m afraid I’m no hand at making speeches.  I preferr deeds to worrds.  We’ll all put ourr shoulderrs to the wheel, and win forr the school, won’t we?  I hope we’ll have a splendid yearr!”

At that she retired amidst rapturous applause.  Margaret again rang the bell for silence, and proceeded with the business of the meeting, which was to elect the officers for the various societies and guilds.  This being satisfactorily settled, she turned to affairs of lighter moment.