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“But they did!” Miss Winthrop assured them.

“Have they any idea what the organization stands for?”

“Not much, but they have seen pictures in the papers. They know that Mrs. Hoover is president, and that the first lady of the land is honorary president.”

“I am afraid I couldn’t do anything with them, much as I want a troop of my own,” sighed Marjorie. “It would require somebody older——”

“No! No!” protested Miss Winthrop. “Somebody older wouldn’t have half the hold on them that you would—will you do it?”

Again Marjorie hesitated and Lily shook her head decidedly.

“Miss Wilkinson is our new class president, Miss Winthrop, and she’ll be terribly busy this year.”

“And that’s too great an honor to resign,” put in Daisy.

“No, it isn’t,” said Marjorie, “not, at least, for something worth while. But I don’t feel as if I could do much with these girls.”

“Try!” urged Miss Winthrop. “Meet with them next Saturday night—and decide then!”

“All right,” agreed Marjorie, “as you say.”

But Marjorie Wilkinson never did things by halves; in spite of Lily’s vigorous protests, she handed in her resignation that night as president of the senior class.