“Yes, ma’am,” said Bobby, demurely.
“And if you can behave so well for these weeks, why not all the time?”
“I don’t know, ma’am,” admitted Bobby.
“Can’t you?”
“Sometimes I fear I shall burst, Miss Carrington,” said the girl, bluntly.
“Well! you have improved,” admitted the teacher. “But you are not willing to say anything further about the fire?”
“I didn’t set it,” said Bobby, doggedly.
“And you did not go near that waste basket?”
“I did not.”
“Well! it is perfectly ridiculous. The fire could have been set in no other way. There was not a soul in the room but yourself. And the punk was afire when we all left you. That is so; is it not?”