“That’s the tardy bell, girls!” cried somebody, just then, and, before Jacquette could learn any more, the newspaper was furled and they all went hurrying to their places.
As she reached her desk she noticed Mary Elliott looking at her with swollen eyes, from across the aisle. A minute later Mary reached over and laid a scrap of paper on Jacquette’s desk. On it was scrawled the two lines:
“Yestreen the Queen had four Maries,
The night she’ll hae but three.”
“What do you mean?” Jacquette scribbled beneath the words, and handed the paper back, but instead of answering, Mary put her handkerchief to her eyes and began to cry.
Jacquette watched her in bewilderment. Had she offended her without knowing it?
Then the soft, penetrating voice of Mademoiselle, calling her name from the roll, brought her back to duty, and she faced about with a start.
As soon as the noon hour came, Jacquette followed Mary into the hall.
“What is it, Mary? What do you mean?” she asked.
“Haven’t you seen the morning paper?”