Several others did similarly; some not commenting on the teacher’s looks, but merely staring at her, and then looking away quickly.
Dolly Fayre had not noticed much of the whole performance, for she was behind with her lesson, and was struggling with a refractory problem, hoping to get it done before she had to go to the blackboard to demonstrate it.
And so, when she rose from her seat, she was surprised and shocked to see how alarmed Miss Partland looked. Indeed the poor lady was all upset with bewilderment at the observations made by her pupils. She had begun to think there must be something serious and noticeable the matter with her. She was trembling with nervous apprehension, and was on the verge of tears. And so, Dolly, who had forgotten Tod’s joke, said, most honestly, “Why, what is the matter, Miss Partland? You look awfully ill!”
The other pupils, hearing this, chuckled silently, thinking what a good little actress Dolly was.
But to Miss Partland it was the last straw.
“I am ill,” she cried out; “very ill. Help me, Dolly, to the rest room.”
Leaning on the shoulder of Dolly, who was pretty well frightened, Miss Partland stumbled along to the rest room,—a place provided for any one suddenly indisposed.
Dolly assisted her teacher to lie down on a couch, and dipping her handkerchief in cold water, held it to her forehead.
“Let me call somebody,” said Dolly. “I don’t know what I ought to do.”
“No, I feel better now,” said Miss Partland. “But I can’t go back to the classroom. I think I must go home. You may go to Mr. Macintosh, Dolly, and tell him I went home, ill.”