The first day of a new term always seems intolerably long, and with such
an interesting event as a ballot before them most of the girls felt the
hour and a half to drag, and turned many surreptitious glances towards
wrist watches. Merle in especial, who hated French translation, groaned
as she looked up words in the dictionary, and made several stupid
mistakes, because her thoughts were focussed on the election instead of
on the matter in hand. Once she yawned openly, and drew down a reproof
from Mademoiselle, whereupon she heaved a submissive sigh, controlled her
boredom, and went on wearily transferring the flowery sentiments of
Fénelon into the English tongue. At precisely five minutes to four the
big bell clanged out a warning, dictionaries were shut, exercise-books
handed in, pencil-boxes replaced in desks, and the class filed downstairs
to the big schoolroom. Miss Pollard was not there: she was busy in the
hostel; and Miss Fanny, looking rather flustered and nervous, had
evidently given over the conduct of the meeting to Miss Mitchell, and was
present merely as a spectator. The new mistress seemed perfectly at home
and ready for the occasion. She passed round pieces of paper, inquired
whether everybody had a pencil, then made her announcements.
"As Miss Pollard told you this morning, you are here to elect two
monitresses. Two from among the boarders have already been chosen by us,
these are Iva Westwood 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."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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