"Very well, then," Mr. Cole said firmly. "We’ll expect exemplary behavior from you, Laura." He gave her a nod. "You’re dismissed."

She jumped up, wanting to hug him, but she only backed toward the door and said, "Thank you, sir," and as she turned the knob, she repeated, "Thank you, sir."

When Miss Emerson came out a few minutes later, Laura couldn’t contain herself. She hugged Miss Emerson and exclaimed, "I have you to thank for helping me. You don’t know what this means to me."

"Nonsense," Miss Emerson said with a twinkle in her eye. "You could have persuaded Mr. Cole on your own, but one thing I’m not so certain about…."

"And that is?" Laura asked.

"Being an exemplary student." She grinned. "Think you can manage that?"

"Just watch me," Laura promised, and she laughed gleefully.

After school Laura raced toward Cassie’s locker, eager to share her news.

Down the hall, Cassie was opening her locker.

"Cassie!" Laura shouted. "Cassie! It’s all right! I’m allowed to stay in school!"

Cassie spun around, dropping her books and, even in her hobble skirt, managed to run and hug Laura. "You’re not going to be expelled?" she asked. Usually so dignified, she was fairly jumping up and down. "Tell me what happened."

The two girls walked back, picked up Cassie’s books, and went out the double doors.

Laura squeezed Cassie’s arm. "I still can’t believe it. Mr. Cole was very stern, and I thought he would no more listen to me than to a mop. When I saw that he was intent on what I had to say, I relaxed a little."

"Was Mr. Blair at the conference?"

"No, thank heavens, but Mr. Cole read a list of grievances that he’d sent." She grimaced, glancing at Cassie. "You should have heard them. Mr. Blair kept mentioning class attitude. Fortunately Miss Emerson spoke up in my defense, and she refuted every charge Mr. Blair made against me. I wish you could have seen her — she was sincere, vital, and humorous. She even had brought in several of my A essays.

"What a week for you, Laura. I’m glad it’s almost over, not only for you, but also for the suffragists!"

"Yes, worrying about leaving school was the worst part. Today, when we read that phrase from James Russell Lowell in English class, I thought how well it fit me. Remember the line, The misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come?"

Cassie turned to face Laura. "I’m so glad for you." She gazed steadily at Laura, her eyes warm. "You know, I should have been in Mr. Cole’s office with you." She slightly moved her elegant, broad shoulders. "But you know Father forced me to attend school on Monday."

"It’s okay," Laura said gently. "I’m glad to have you as a friend. We always seem to agree, and no one will ever separate us. I could have been dragged to school, too, that day, if I’d confided in Mother. But that’s all behind us. Now we’ve got to get through history. At least we’re facing Mr. Blair together. I don’t think I could stand another day of his class if you weren’t there also, Cassie." Her eyes softened. "It’s a good feeling to know you’re in this whole thing with me, and I don’t mean just Mr. Blair but the suffragists, too."

"And what would I do without you?" Cassie said, smiling. Then she glanced at her watch. "In fact, I’m supposed to be on duty right now, from four to six o’clock. The pickets will want their coffee right on the dot of four-thirty." She shifted her books, glancing at Laura. "What are your hours?"

"From six to eight." Laura sighed, feeling it was all about to end. "Just think, at midnight it will all be over, and Chief Bentley has promised to leave us alone."

"Why are you headed toward the White House? Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?" Cassie asked curiously.

"I promised to meet Shawn for a cup of tea at the corner of Fifteenth Street." She caught her breath. "In fact, there he is now," she said, pointing.

"Hmmm," Cassie said, observing the soldier leaning against a lamppost. "He’s handsome." Just then Shawn turned his head and saw them.

"The way he’s rushing to meet you, it looks like you two are long-lost lovers." Cassie’s laugh lingered in the warm May air. "It looks serious between you two." She gave Laura a sidelong glance beneath long, dark lashes. "What about Joe?"

"Joe’s still special." Laura paused. "Both boys are special but in very different ways." Her pace picked up, and so did her heartbeat, as she returned Shawn’s wave.

"Well, the main thing is that you’re enjoying them. Just stay out of trouble so you can keep on enjoying them," Cassie warned. "I don’t want you taking any more trips to Mr. Cole’s office."

"Believe me, that’s one place I want to keep away from! In fact, if I’m sent there again for my suffragist activities, Mr. Cole personally threatened to take me before the Board."

When Shawn crossed the street and caught up to the two girls, he was breathless. "Laura, hi!"

"Oh, Shawn. It’s good to see you," Laura said, her face beaming. "Everything is all right," she said, almost bubbling over. "I’ll be able to stay in school."

"Great!" He gave her that old familiar grin, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pecked her on the cheek. Lifting his head, he peered quizzically at Cassie.

"Shawn, this is my good friend, Cassie Whiting. Cassie, meet Shawn O’Brien."

"Well, hello," Shawn said in a low voice, stepping forward and holding out his hand. "Where has Laura been hiding you?" Folding his arms across his chest, he gazed approvingly at Cassie’s tall, lithe figure. "I’ve heard a lot about you from Laura."

Cassie’s eyes twinkled, looking first at Shawn, then back at Laura. Her face with its straight, delicate planes made her seem grown-up. Her dark hair, short and wavy, ruffled a bit in the slight breeze.

Laura managed to return Cassie’s smile, but she was none too pleased at Shawn’s flirtatious manner. Maybe Joe was right. Maybe Shawn could never be loyal to one girl. The memory of her first meeting came back to her, when Shawn had looked with such admiration at her, too. She chuckled, dismissing the nagging doubt, and said lightly, "I haven’t been hiding Cassie at all. She’s one of the most popular girls at Jefferson High."

"I can understand that," Shawn said. "So, Cassie, you’re a suffragist, too." His tone was unbelieving as he appraised her expensive pink linen suit.

"I am," she said with a pert nod, "and I’m already late for duty at the White House."

"Don’t be tardy," he admonished teasingly. "The soldiers will miss you if you’re not on time."

His mocking tone, however, didn’t upset Cassie, and she held out her hand, shaking Shawn’s again. "I’ve got to run." With a careless wave she hurried off, calling over her shoulder, "I’m glad to have met you, Shawn."

"Same here," he shouted back. Turning to Laura, he said, "What a looker your girl friend is!"

Laura nodded, no longer feeling jealous. That was just Shawn’s way, and what was wrong with appreciating a lovely girl? "Cassie could be a model," she agreed.

He tilted up her chin with his forefinger. "She’s too aristocratic-looking for me. I prefer freckles and a dimpled chin."

She giggled. "It’s a good thing, Shawn O’Brien, because you’re stuck with them." Hand in hand they strolled toward Lee’s Tea Room and Gallery.

When the steaming tea arrived, Laura squeezed lemon into hers but Shawn added nothing. He only wrinkled his nose at his first taste. "I’d rather have Irish coffee." Then he reached for her hand. "It’s so good to see you." His brown eyes became serious. "You know, Laura, you’re playing with fire. Don’t you think you’ve tempted fate once too often? The next time you could get burned."

"What do you mean?" she asked, dabbing her lips with her napkin to hide how flushed she was. Did he think she was flirting with both him and Joe? And although her throat was dry and she could feel a blush sweep across her face, Shawn’s next words reassured her. That wasn’t what he had meant at all.

"This suffrage business has gone far enough, Laura. It’s only a game to you. Don’t you see that it could mean prison?" Carefully he set the dainty cup down, awaiting her reply. As he watched her an amused expression spread across his open face. "But you love danger, don’t you, Laura? You crave excitement!"

She bridled at his words and stiffly took a sip of tea, cautioning herself to be ladylike and not to shout or carry on. "I’m not playing a game, Shawn," she told him in measured tones. "I know there’s a possibility of being arrested, but it’s highly unlikely. After all, I’m not a picket." She observed Shawn over the rim of her cup, willing him to understand. If he cared for her he must try to see her viewpoint and to respect her beliefs, "I feel very strongly about the suffragists and what they’re trying to accomplish."

For a moment his eyes clouded, then he leaned his head back and laughed. "Don’t be so serious, sweetness, or you’ll become wrinkled before your time. Your eyes are sending out storm signals, and I could drown in those green depths of fury." His mouth curved downward. "Laura, surely you must realize how men view this nonsense when they see women running around with placards, organizing parades, obstructing traffic, going to jail, and generally making fools of themselves."

She gritted her teeth but said nothing. Not all men think we’re nonsensical, she thought. Joe understood. Besides, many men had come over to their side, including legislators. Why did Shawn have to cling to the old ways and old ideas? What was it? Did he feel threatened? Why should he? He was handsome and had everything going for him — why should he resent women having the ballot?