Astonished, she allowed his sweet lips to linger on hers longer than she should, encircling his neck with her arms.

At last Joe gently disentangled her arms and kissed her with the old familiar peck on the nose. "Good night, Laura. And good luck tomorrow."

Her hand moved in a limp wave after his retreating back. Her heart pumped wildly at the memory of his kiss. How long she had yearned for a kiss like that! Now that she was going out with Shawn, why did Joe have to change, to treat her more like a sweetheart than a kid sister? Her confusion was bittersweet as she opened the door. Joe’s kiss had almost pushed the expulsion problem from her mind — almost, but not quite!

When she came in, her mother and Sarah were in the parlor, knitting as usual. Wondering how to approach her mother, she swallowed hard and decided the best way was to get it over with and confess her plight.

Squaring her shoulders, she entered and stood before Mrs. Mitchell.

Maude looked up with a smile. "Laura, sit with us for a while. It seems we’re all rushing in six different directions and seldom are together anymore." Her smile faded when she noticed her daughter’s face. "What’s wrong, dear?"

"It’s Mr. Blair," she blurted out. "He’s recommending my expulsion from school." She sank into a chair.

"Expulsion!" Sarah said, horrified. "But, why?"

Laura twisted the fringe on her belt. If only she had confided in her mother before and told her about playing hooky. Briefly she described Monday’s rally and her part in it. The words were low, and it was difficult to squeeze them past the lump in her throat. "Now," she finished, "Mr. Blair is trying to expel me." She flung out her hands in a helpless gesture.

"I always knew your suffragist activities would bring you nothing but trouble," Sarah chided.

Laura glanced at her but bit off her angry retort when she noticed the tears sparkling in Sarah’s eyes. Besides, she was in no position to be defiant.

Daring to look at her mother, she saw little sympathy in her usually gentle eyes.

Maude cast her knitting to one side and shook her head reprovingly. "Sarah is right. How could you let the suffragists interfere with your schooling?" she admonished.

"I’m going to see Miss Emerson tomorrow," Laura said hopefully. "She’ll have some ideas."

They talked for a short time, but what was there to say? There were only more of Sarah’s tears and more of her mother’s reproaches.

Sadly Laura went up to bed.

When she slid beneath the covers, her lips quivered. How could she have hurt her mother like this? She turned her head into the pillow, heaping blame on herself.

Later Mrs. Mitchell came in and tenderly kissed Laura’s forehead. "Things will work out, darling. Don’t give up hope. If you need me I’ll come to school."

Laura should have felt better when her mother switched off the light, but the darkness enveloped her as if she were lost, stumbling and falling into a deep abyss. Despite her weariness, she slept very little that night.

The next day, however, after school was out and she was on her way to see Miss Emerson, her problem loomed large once more — almost too large to overcome.

In history class Mr. Blair had been his usual caustic self, giving a brief lecture on how Miss Paul’s suffragists were impeding the war effort. Knowing his talk was directed at her, Laura slid down in her seat, trying to close her ears and, for once, not having a comeback. She didn’t want him to know that she was rallying her forces.

As she opened Miss Emerson’s door she squared her shoulders, determined to tackle this problem. With Miss Emerson’s help she’d be able to extricate herself from a messy situation.

"Come in, Laura." Miss Emerson looked up, her gray eyes filled with compassion. She indicated a desk for Laura to sit down in.

Laura’s eyes filled with tears again as she slid into the desk, which was bolted to the floor, and gazed at Miss Emerson with trepidation. It was true her English teacher was kind and liked her, but what could Miss Emerson really do? However, as she looked at this energetic woman with her vibrant face surrounded by waves of dark hair, Laura knew that if anyone could help her solve this problem it would be Miss Emerson.

"Now, Laura," Miss Emerson said confidently. "I know why you’re here."

Laura shot her a fearful look. Where had she found out? Was it all over school?

"Yesterday," Miss Emerson went on smoothly, "Mr. Blair told me he wants you expelled." Her bright eyes seemed to peer inside Laura’s heart. "Ever since class, I sensed something was wrong, even before Mr. Blair bragged about what he intended to do." She grimaced. "What an oaf!" she said with exasperation, briskly unclasping the celluloid cuffs that protected her crepe de chine blouse.

"Listen, Laura, here’s what we’ll do. You make an appointment to see Mr. Cole the first thing Friday morning. I’ll go with you. Mr. Cole is strict, but fair, and," she added dryly, "he also likes good teaching and competent record-keeping. He’ll listen to me." She waggled her yellow pencil to and fro. "You need to tell your story exactly as it happened with no embellishments. Don’t sell yourself short, Laura, for you’re an attractive, articulate student. I’ll vouch for that. When we’re finished presenting our side to Mr. Cole, I’ll wager he’ll decide that your case won’t be worth the attention of the Board!"

She rose. "By tomorrow it will be all over, and you can go about helping the White House pickets once again." She put a hand on Laura’s shoulder. "Just don’t get yourself arrested. That would really give Mr. Blair a case."

Laura looked up and smiled. "I’ll try not to. The arrests haven’t been as heavy this week as anticipated. Only twenty women were sent to jail."

"How long is Police Chief Bentley going to continue to harass the pickets?"

"You should come to the meetings and find out," Laura teased.

Miss Emerson wrinkled her nose and grinned. "It’s term paper time, but I’ll be there tomorrow night."

Laura stood, too. "Chief Bentley said no more arrests after this week. We’ll have proved our point, and he’ll have proved his. I feel better," she said. Inside, she suffered a few doubts. After all, both Mr. Cole and Mr. Blair were not known for their love of suffragists. Hesitating, she went on, "Even if I’m not expelled, how will I ever be able to get through the rest of the year with Mr. Blair?"

"You’ll manage," Miss Emerson said crisply. "After all, you’re a suffragist. How many times did they have to stand patiently and listen to a senator berate them and their cause? Certainly you should be able to deal with Mr. Blair."

Chapter Thirteen

On Friday Laura, accompanied by Miss Emerson, walked fearfully into Mr. Cole’s office.

How forbidding he looks, she thought, waiting for him to look up from his paper. His head was covered with a mane of white hair, and his steady eyes and square jaw did litle to reassure her that it was to be a merciful interview.

Mr. Cole looked up. "Ah, come in, both of you and have a seat." He studied Laura. "I’ve just gone over a number of grievances Mr. Blair has sent me, Laura. It’s a rather imposing list." He picked up the paper again. "You are, according to Mr. Blair, willful, disobedient, impudent, and a poor student with a bad attitude."

The blood raced to Laura’s cheeks. "I may disagree with Mr. Blair in class," she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice, "but I’m not a poor student." Her tone became defensive. "Mr. Blair dislikes me because I’m associated with the suffragists."

"Hmmm." Mr. Cole leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing and making a pyramid of his fingers. "I must admit," he said dryly, "I don’t have much love for them myself."

Laura’s heart sank. There would be no justice at the hands of an antisuffragist!

"Nonetheless," he continued, "the suffragists have nothing to do with this."

Miss Emerson spoke up. "Let me tell you about Laura Mitchell, Mr. Cole."

Mr. Cole swiveled his chair around and gave Miss Emerson a piercing look.

Miss Emerson, attractive in a dark dress with a large red bow at the throat, smiled reassuringly at Laura, and then calmly addressed Mr. Cole. "Laura is an excellent English student and does very well in every subject except history. In fact" — she dug into her briefcase — "here’s a sample of several of her papers."

Mr. Cole took them and leafed through them, nodding approvingly.

"Laura is also a very caring person," Miss Emerson continued. "She’s involved in other activities besides the suffragists, such as a motorcade unit and the Red Cross."

Laura looked down at her hands to hide the pleasant glow brought on by Miss Emerson’s praise.

Mr. Cole cleared his throat. "I respect your opinion, Miss Emerson, and I don’t think cutting one day of class warrants an expulsion hearing before the Board."

Laura’s head jerked up, and she was unable to hide her broad smile.

"But," Mr. Cole proceeded sternly, "you must serve a week’s detention, and any more incidents with Mr. Blair will be severely dealt with." He paused. "Do you understand, young lady?"

"Oh, yes, sir," she said softly, happiness bursting inside her like fireworks. Mr. Cole was actually giving her another chance. How wonderful! She couldn’t wait to tell her mother and Sarah.