At last it was bedtime, and the girls filed out of the room, saying good night to Miss Frelinghuysen as they passed.
“Hold your hand a little higher,” she said to Betty, “and your head just a trifle to one side,—so.”
Betty imitated the model, alas, only too well! So anxious was she to do as she was told, that her attitude was an exaggeration of the principal’s; indeed, it seemed a mockery, though nothing was farther from Betty’s intention.
The girls behind her giggled outright, which didn’t speak very well for their innate good breeding.
Miss Frelinghuysen turned scarlet, and said: “Report to me in my study to-morrow morning at ten, Miss McGuire. Good night.”
“Good night,” said Betty, all unaware of what she had done wrong.
“Oh, Elizabeth, you were killing!” declared Madeleine, when they reached their room. “But how dared you do it?”
She went off in peals of subdued laughter, only pausing at Betty’s amazed, “What do you mean?”
“Why, the way you mimicked the principal! It was great! You looked so ridiculous, and that made her seem silly. Oh, it was too good!”
“Why, I didn’t mean to do any such thing!” said Betty, ready to cry at the idea of having added a misdemeanor to her other troubles.