Miss Bennett had been looking forward to the passing-up of her new form, for they had the reputation of being a steady, hard-working lot; "swots" they were dubbed, half in contempt, half in admiration, by some of the other forms. It is true they were also inclined to be self-complacent and rather addicted to pluming themselves on their cleverness, but as Miss Bennett pointed out to Miss Moore, one couldn't have everything and it would be a relief to be in charge of a hard-working form after the previous harum-scarum, happy-go-lucky, hoydenish Fifth. Miss Moore had agreed, adding with a sigh that she was afraid the new Fourth were going to follow in the steps of Miss Bennett's old form.
The first period that morning was devoted to a Scripture lesson, and while the majority of the class conscientiously endeavoured to trace the genealogy of the numerous kings of Israel and Judah, the new girl fidgeted restlessly in her seat, now gazing round the room at the pictures hanging on the walls, now scribbling aimlessly on her desk with her pencil. She certainly did not appear to be giving much attention to the lesson, but Miss Bennett, for some reason or other, chose to take no notice of her. Just as the bell went and Miss Bennett was rising to go out, Monica appeared to wake up. Her hand shot up suddenly and as Miss Bennett, pausing on her way to the door, looked inquiringly at her, she said in a breath: "Please, Miss Bennett, how do we know Solomon was a poor man?"
Miss Bennett frowned. "Don't waste my time, Monica. You must know Solomon was one of the richest of all the Jewish kings," she said sharply and swept from the room.
For a moment there was silence in the room. Then Glenda observed to the class in general: "What on earth is that new kid babbling about?"
The "new kid" looked up from the little holes she was punching in her desk with the point of her pencil and answered for herself. "I thought Miss Bennett ought to know. Solomon must have been either very poor or very mean, or he would have had a bed to himself. Why, we only read this morning that he slept with his fathers."
The Fifth was just digesting this when Miss Andrews arrived on the scene, but by now they had become aware that there certainly was something peculiar about the new girl. Had she really meant to be cheeky to Miss Bennett or was she merely very stupid? They watched her stealthily as the Latin lesson began. Latin, strange to say, was a subject that was disliked by most of Miss Andrews' scholars, who voted it difficult and uninteresting and a horrid grind for examination purposes; there were even some who went so far as to declare it the bugbear of their school life.
Now they were called upon, one after the other, to quote certain lines which they had memorized from their readers, and with a few hesitations most of the class acquitted themselves well. When it came to Monica's turn she rose readily enough in her seat and declaimed what was evidently meant to be:
Cæsar adsum iam forte,
Hannibal adsum adhuc.
but which sounded, as she pronounced it, very like:
Cæsar 'ad some jam for tea,
Hannibal 'ad some 'addock.