A group of laughing and chattering girls came into the cloak-room and Mabel seized the opportunity to slip into the hall and into the class-room. Her face burned. Of course she told herself that the girl was jealous, but Mabel was one of those persons who require the approval and admiration of those about her in order to be happy.
She did such poor work that morning that she was obliged to stay after school, although she knew that she ought to be at the office. She took her books to a desk in the reference library where she was soon lost in her work.
Presently she heard the low voices of a couple of teachers. They came and seated themselves on the other side of a big blackboard just behind Mabel.
"Oh, dear," sighed one of them, "this weather makes me long for vacation."
"The last weeks of school are always a drag," answered the other. "And I think the children feel it as much as we teachers. Even my brightest pupils are letting down, and the marks have all fallen off."
"Even Mabel Brewster's marks?" queried Miss Jones with a sniff.
"What a goose that girl is!" said Miss Hannibal. "I don't know what does ail her."
"An inflated ego," said Miss Jones.
"Novels and the New Woman Movement, I think," said Miss Hannibal. "It is a perfect shame. I feel so sorry for her mother. Here this girl, as soon as she gets where she would naturally be of some service and comfort to her mother, steps gaily out of all her responsibilities and home duties and sets up a home of her own and goes around talking about a career. Career, indeed! Why, the child has nothing to career on! She did not inherit her mother's cleverness. If she was my child, I would send her to her room and keep her there on bread and water until she came to her senses."
"So would I," said Miss Jones, "but it is really none of our business, of course."