"We only want our rights."
"Rights? You've got no rights! It's privilege enough for you to be allowed to belong to the Guild at all."
"A great privilege to pay our shillings!"
"You're allowed to vote, you know," put in Lena Morris, who possibly had heard a hint of what was brewing in the Lower School. "You can elect any of us as officers that you like, for any of the Guilds."
"And much good that is, when you all play into one another's hands!" burst out Gipsy. "Who gets the best parts in the Dramatic and the Musical, I should like to know? Who votes the prizes in the Sports?"
Helen Roper turned rather red. The difference in the qualities of the prizes offered to Seniors and Juniors in the last athletic contest had been so marked as to call forth comment from the mistresses.
"That's nothing to do with it," she faltered rather lamely. "If you Juniors have any complaints to make, you must make them at the Annual Meeting."
"We're going to," said Hetty Hancock grimly.
"Then in the meantime keep to your own quarters, and don't intrude yourselves where you've no business," commanded Doreen Tristram angrily. "Do you intend to take yourselves off peaceably, or must we eject you?"
"Thank you, we'll go now. We've found out all we want to know, and it hardly reflects to your credit."
So saying, Gipsy and her confederates stalked away with what dignity they could muster.
Once outside the door they tore along the passage
