“No— no,” interrupted Miss Eccleston. “I cannot accept the responsibility. The college authorities must decide the matter.” “Remember,” said Maggie, stepping forward a pace or two, “that we are no children. If we were at school you ought to punish us, and, of course, you would. I _hate_ what I have done, and I own it frankly. But you cannot forget, Miss Eccleston, that no girl here has broken a rule when she attended the auction and bought Miss Singleton’s things; and that even Miss Singleton has broken no rule when she went in debt.” There was a buzz of applause and even a cheer from the girls in the background. Miss Eccleston looked angry, but perplexed. Miss Heath again turned and spoke to her. She replied in a low tone. Miss Heath said something further. At last Miss Eccleston sat down and Miss Heath came forward and addressed Maggie Oliphant. “Your words have been scarcely respectful, Miss Oliphant,” she said, “but there is a certain justice in them which my friend, Miss Eccleston, is the first to admit. She has consented, therefore, to defer her final decision for twenty-four hours; at the end of that time the students of Katharine Hall and Heath Hall will know what we finally decide to do.” After the meeting in Miss Eccleston’s drawing-room the affair of the auction assumed enormous proportions. There was no other topic of conversation. The students took sides vigorously in the matter: the gay, giddy and careless ones voting the auction a rare bit of fun and upholding those who had taken part in it with all their might and main. The more sober and high-minded girls, on the other hand, took Miss Heath’s and Miss Eccleston’s views of the matter. The principles of the college had been disregarded, the spirit of order had been broken; debt, which was disgraceful, was made light of. These girls felt that the tone of St. Benet’s was lowered. Even Maggie Oliphant sank in their estimation. A few went to the length of saying that they could no longer include her in their set. Katharine Hall, the scene of the auction itself, was, of course, now the place of special interest. Heath Hall was also implicated in it, but Seymour Hall, which stood a little apart from its sister halls, had sent no student to the scene of dissipation. Seymour Hall was the smallest of the three. It was completely isolated from the others, standing in its own lovely grounds on the other side of the road. It now held its head high, and the girls who belonged to the other halls, but had taken no part in the auction, felt that their own beloved halls were lowered, and their resentment was all the keener because the Seymour Hall girls gave themselves airs.