Kling! They all rose. Kling! and the boys moved out with clumping of heavy boots and burst into the open air with wild whoopings. The girls gathered into little knots and talked, glancing furtively at the stranger. Some of them wondered if he were the County Superintendent of Schools.
Rose sat in her seat, with her chin on her clasped hands. It was a sign of her complex organization, that the effect of a new experience was rooted deep, and changes took place noiselessly, far below the surface.
"Rose, come here a moment," called the teacher, "bring your history."
"Don't keep her from her playmates," Thatcher remonstrated.
"O she'd rather recite any time than play with the others."
Rose stood near, a lovely figure of wistful hesitation. She had been curiously unembarrassed before, now she feared to do that which was so easy and so proper. At last she saw her opportunity as the teacher turned away to ring the bell.
She touched Thatcher on the arm. "Do you live in Madison, sir?"
"Yes. I am a doctor there."
She looked embarrassed now and twisted her fingers.
"Is it so very hard to get into the university?"