The class giggled. Miss Andrews, who had a gentle, peace-loving disposition, looked at her new pupil for a moment, puzzled and undecided what to make of her, then said reprovingly: "I presume you have been taught the old style of pronunciation, Monica. You will have to learn our less antiquated methods as quickly as you can."
The lesson proceeded, the class struggling in the quagmires of the Second Punic War. The passage they were construing was not an easy one. Even Irene found herself hopelessly tied up in knots. Yet another shock was in store for the Fifth that morning, for when Miss Andrews for the first time called upon the new girl to see what she could do, Monica stood up and translated with an unruffled ease and fluency that left the rest of the class gasping; with unerring skill she pounced upon correct tenses and cases; grammatical difficulties that had puzzled the class were solved without hesitation, and the jigsaw pieces slipped smoothly into their proper places. Miss Andrews, delighted at the discovery that her new pupil was proving to be a decided acquisition to the Latin class, let her continue, which Monica did with apparent enjoyment, and had finished the page and was half-way down the next before the relentless bell proclaimed the close of the lesson.
By the end of that week the chief topic of conversation in the Fifth was the newcomer, Monica Carr. The girls could not make up their minds whether to be annoyed and angry at her unexpected ways, or rather thrilled. So far she had done nothing desperately wicked, it is true, though the Fifth were constantly wondering what she would do or say next. They decided that she was clever in a way, in spite of her ignorance of French. Sometimes she was so inattentive in class that she had to be severely reprimanded by the teachers; sometimes she would work as hard as anyone, particularly during Latin lessons, when she earned much praise from the delighted Miss Andrews, who had at last found a pupil who apparently shared her love for that classical language. Not infrequently was she seized with a spirit of devil-may-care mischief, when she would sit in her desk with her arms folded and her legs tucked under her seat and ask all manner of absurd questions of a harassed mistress, setting traps for her, baiting her, pitting her sharp wits against hers, and seemingly quite as impervious to snubs and reprimands as she was to praises. Secretly the girls were a little surprised at the leniency of the mistresses towards the newcomer and her changeable moods.
On one occasion the Fifth had entered their classroom to find the blackboard adorned with the following witticisms on the names of some of the girls:
Q. Why walked Nora Miles?
A. Because Ida Preston.
Q. What gave Lorna Payne?
A. Because she Rhoda Hunter.
Q. Why came Elizabeth Forth?
A. To see Nellie Barthe.
They were in the act of reciting them aloud and laughing loudly over them, when Miss Bennett entered.
Miss Bennett was annoyed, for she was the martinet of the school and her sense of humour was not highly developed. She was still more annoyed when, on turning the blackboard to the other side in the middle of the lesson, there was displayed to view in extremely large printing that hackneyed old saying: "Suffer fools gladly," and she coldly announced that unless the blackboards were cleaned and ready for use when the mistress entered for the first period of morning or afternoon lessons the girls would not be allowed to enter the classroom till a mistress was actually present.
No one discovered the identity of the adorner of blackboards, but the Fifth, though they enjoyed a good laugh in class, were indignant at this threat to curtail their liberty and took care to see that in the future their blackboards were swept, without being garnished.