The mass of girls grew greater, the rage around the pegs grew steadier, the scholars tended to fall into little noisy gangs in the porch. Then Violet Harby clapped her hands, clapped them louder, with a shrill “Quiet, girls, quiet!”
There was a pause. The hubbub died down but did not cease.
“What did I say?” cried Miss Harby, shrilly.
There was almost complete silence. Sometimes a girl, rather late, whirled into the porch and flung off her things.
“Leaders—in place,” commanded Miss Harby shrilly.
Pairs of girls in pinafores and long hair stood separate in the porch.
“Standard Four, Five, and Six—fall in,” cried Miss Harby.
There was a hubbub, which gradually resolved itself into three columns of girls, two and two, standing smirking in the passage. In among the peg-racks, other teachers were putting the lower classes into ranks.
Ursula stood by her own Standard Five. They were jerking their shoulders, tossing their hair, nudging, writhing, staring, grinning, whispering and twisting.
A sharp whistle was heard, and Standard Six, the biggest girls, set off, led by Miss Harby. Ursula, with her Standard Five, followed after. She stood beside a smirking, grinning row of girls, waiting in a narrow passage. What she was herself she did not know.