L Frank Baum

Mary Louise L Frank Baum

"It's positively cruel!" pouted Jennie Allen, one of a group of girls occupying a garden bench in the ample grounds of Miss Stearne's School for Girls, at Beverly. "It's worse than that; it's insulting," declared Mable Westervelt, her big dark eyes flashing indignantly. "Doesn't it seem to reflect on our characters?" timidly asked Dorothy Knerr. "Indeed it does!" asserted Sue Finley. "But here comes Mary Louise; let's ask her opinion." "Phoo! Mary Louise is only a day scholar," said Jennie. "The restriction doesn't apply to her at all." "I'd like to hear what she says, anyhow," remarked Dorothy. "Mary Louise has a way of untangling things, you know." "She's rather too officious to suit me," Mable Westervelt retorted, "and she's younger than any of us. One would think, the way she poses as monitor at this second-rate, run-down boarding school, that Mary Louise Burrows made the world."