"What is the History lesson for to-morrow, Sarah?" asked Ellen in a tone which was meant to be conciliatory.
Sarah silently pushed forward her note-book. She was dressed now and staring at her Physiology. "Man is the only living creature that can stand or walk erect." In what long-past stage of her life had she read that?
At twenty-eight minutes past eight, she closed her book and went into the hall, where, watch in hand, she lingered outside Miss Ellingwood's door until the hand pointed to the half-hour. Then, fearfully, she rapped.
A low "Come in" answered. It took all her strength to turn the knob. She saw nothing of the beautiful room with its books, its fireplace, its wide and crowded desk, its low tea-table; she saw only Miss Ellingwood entering from her bedroom beyond, her curls wet and shining, clad in a fresh, stiffly starched white shirt-waist and a dry skirt. She went across to the big chair before her desk, and turning her head away, stooped to straighten out some papers. She saw the blue dress, and the smooth hair. Both judge and defendant, she said to herself, were dressed for the occasion.
"Now, Sarah," she began, "suppose you tell me how it is that an inoffensive non-combatant, rapping at your door, is received with a shower of water. Your room-mates asked me to get you to let them in. They said that you had locked them out, and they couldn't study. Is this true?"
"Yes, ma'am," faltered Sarah.
"Why did you do it?"
"Because—they—ach!" Sarah burst into a flood of tears. She did not wish to tell on them, she could not bear to recount the foolish trick which had been played on her. It seemed so ridiculous now to have been taken in. It was so absurd,—her anxiety at hearing that William had come, her mystification at the foolish figure which met her at the door, her rage, when she realized what they had done. That was worst of all.
"Ach, if you will only let me make it up to you," she cried. "I will never do such a thing again. I will dry your hair if they are wet yet, and I could iron your shirt-waist, and if it is spoiled, I could try to earn some money to buy you a new one. Or William would send me the money right away. I could give you my umbrella to make up, or my f-fountain-pen. They are new—they—"
"Mercy, child!" Miss Ellingwood put her arm round Sarah, who in her anguish had moved close to her side. "Don't cry about my clothes, please. They are almost dry already, and water couldn't hurt them. I'll forgive you willingly, entirely, Sarah. But you must never do anything of the kind again. You see the evening study-hour is meant for work. You have long hours in the afternoon and earlier in the evening to play, and all day Saturday, and you need every minute in study-hour. By the time you get settled to work again, you will have lost a whole hour."