"Let's what-d'-you-call-it--strike----" Louie laughed as she sat stiffly down by Burnett Major. "Oh, I'll vote for anything you like; I don't care," she said. Then they began anew. "Earle's head of the posse--_she_ ought to do it----" Richenda Earle's voice broke in in loud complaint. "How _can_ I? You know I would like a shot if it wasn't for my scholarship. But I should just be told that if I didn't like it I could go. Elwell's head of your lot. Elwell ought to go." "I don't care who goes, but I will _not_ be told to do things by Priddy." "Priddy!----" (Louie smiled again as there came from the bathroom the joyful voice: "_Early one mo-o-orning--as the su-un was a-rising!_----") "And those pots hadn't got to be moved--he was only making work----" "--gros tyran!----" "--like they kept us three weeks grading and packing tomatoes last autumn, and called it 'study'----" "--and the bruised ones for us----" "--not even fit for ketchup----" "--Dothegirls Hall _this_ establishment ought to be called!----" Another momentary pause: then: "--let's all sign a petition----" "--no, a what-d'you-call-it--an ultimatum----" "--just telling them straight----" "Your bath, Earle----" From the bathroom had come the gurgle of escaping water. Boiled pink, turbaned with her towel, smelling of somebody else's scented soap and radiating unrepentance that Earle's bath must be a tepid one, Burnett Minor bounced in. "Friends, Romans, countrymen, do lend me a dry towel, just to finish with. Oh, Causton, the curtsy, now that I've something loose on! Crocks! My cocoa, Major, and who said Priddy just now? 'Students do not fall in love with Priddy.' (I sha'n't hush.) Sugar, Mac, and, Causton, I wish you'd do my hair your way, just to see how it looks----" And, twirling twice in the midst of a corolla of pink cashmere dressing-gown, she sank to the floor and began to nurse a chilblain on her heel. Louie, her hands behind her head, leaned back and watched the scene with the greatest amusement. A master-rebel herself, she knew that here was no rebellion. The meeting, like other meetings, was merely letting off steam, and the girls who "wouldn't stand it" would be standing it exactly the same on the morrow. Well, on the morrow she herself would be off. Her boxes were only half unpacked; half-an-hour would put the other things back again. Already she saw that this Chesson's was an imposition. In the meantime, the indignation meeting was very amusing. She felt almost motherly towards these tractable revolutionaries. Her indulgence became still greater as they spoke out again. "Another thing," a girl of Elwell's posse demanded; "why couldn't I go to Rainham yesterday to have my photograph taken?" ("Break the camera," Burnett Minor murmured to the chilblain.) "And just because somebody'd bagged my boots and I was five minutes late the other day----" "Je m'en fiche pas mal----" Pigou began. ("Parly Angly, voo affectay feele," from Burnett Minor.)