"Mrs. Williams said I ought to have known what she meant, I should have investigated—" Selina thus was taking up the tale of it once more when she stopped.
"Yes?" from Culpepper. "We're waiting?"
But with a brisk air of not hearing him, Selina changed the subject. Her father whom she had forgotten was sitting in the back parlor with her mother and her aunt, had lowered his paper and was listening, too. By all the precedents and traditions of her up-bringing, it was hers to change the subject.
Her audience all were acquainted with the personnel of her little class of boys by now, for when Selina was interested in a thing she talked about it. They were familiar, too, with Auntie's grievance about the cranial peculiarity of William. The thing now was to turn the matter off with what Maudie would call sprightly nonchalance.
"William's head certainly is growing smaller, you must know," said Selina with gayety. "Isn't it some sort of reflection on me? As his teacher? I would have thought it would be the other way."
Culpepper from across the circle was looking at her with those boldly blue eyes of his, beneath half-raised lids. Papa's paper was lowered to his knee in the next room. Something was wrong, this brave gayety was assumed and they showed that they knew it was.
"Bluffed," said Culpepper still with that keen and appraising gaze upon her, "she's going to quit."
Papa's paper floated unnoticed from his knee to the floor. Was he listening for what was to come?
"I'm not," said Selina indignantly, stung by these attitudes as of watchers noting her on trial, "I've just begun."