"Rose Clymer never had an idea of her own. She's just sweet and willing. I hate deceitful girls. Every one of them wrote notes to the boys--the same kind of notes--and some of them tried to write poetry. Most of them had a copy of the piece I wrote. They had great fun over it--getting the boys to guess what girl wrote it. I've written a dozen pieces before this and they've all had them." "Well, that explains the verses.... Now I read in these notes about meetings with the boys?" "That refers to mornings before school, and after school, and evenings when it's nice weather. And the literary society." "You mean the Girl's Literary Guild, with rooms at the Atheneum?" "Yes. But, Miss Hill, the literary part of it is bunk. We meet there to dance. The boys bring the girls cigarettes. They smoke, and sometimes the boys have something with them to drink." "These--these girls--hardly in their teens--smoke and drink?" gasped Miss Hill. "I'll say they do," replied Bessy Bell. "What--does the 'Bell-garter' mean?" went on the teacher, presently. "One of the boys stole my garter and fastened a little bell to it. Now it's going the rounds. Every girl who could has worn it." "What's the 'Old Bench'?" "Down in the basement here at school there's a bench under the stairway in the dark. The boys and girls have signals. One boy will get permission to go out at a certain time, and a girl from his room, or another room, will go out too. It's all arranged beforehand. They meet down on the Old Bench." "What for?" "They meet to spoon." "I find the names Hardy Mackay, Captain Thesel, Dick Swann among these notes. What can these young society men be to my pupils?" "Some of the jealous girls have been tattling to each other and mentioning names." "Bessy! Do you imply these girls who talk have had the--the interest or attention of these young gentlemen named?" "Yes." "In what way?" "I mean they've had dates to meet in the park--and other places. Then they go joy riding." "Bessy, have you?" "Yes--but only just lately." "Thank you Bessy, for your--your frankness," replied Miss Hill, drawing a long breath. "I'll have another talk with you, after I see your mother. You may go now." It was an indication of Miss Hill's mental perturbation that for once she broke her methodical routine. For many years she had carried a lunch-basket to and from school; for so many in fact that now on Saturdays when she went to town without it she carried her left hand forward in the same position that had grown habitual to her while holding it. But this afternoon, as she went out, she forgot the basket entirely.