“Yes, sir; I am Betty Lee. Miss Masterman told me that I was to come here.”
“M-m. Tell you why you were to come?”
“She said that she thought I–I cheated in examination.”
The tears which Betty thought she would be able to keep back sprang quickly to her eyes, but she set her lips, wiped her eyes hastily, and continued. “But I did not cheat and I did not see it if the whole room cheated. I tried to make a good paper for Miss Heath!”
“You like Miss Heath, do you?”
“Oh, yes sir! If she had only–” Betty stopped, for she would not imply anything against the substitute.
“Sometimes it is a temptation to try to do well for some one.” Mr. Franklin was looking at her kindly, but soberly.
“I’ve been taught that it is wrong to cheat, sir; and I don’t believe it pays in the long run. Father says that the teacher usually finds out what you know or don’t know.”
“Usually, but not always when there are so many. Tell me about it, Betty.”
“But there isn’t anything to tell! I can’t think why anybody thinks I cheated. I worked hard on the review and went over the things I was weakest on, I thought, and ran over the vocabulary we’ve had, the night before. But I’m pretty good on vocabulary.”