"To do what?" asked Agnes, who was a very earnest little student, and whose dream was that she might get a remove at the end of the term. "About what, Kitty? I wish you would not interrupt me."
"Oh, bother it, dear. Have a chocolate, won't you? What are your lessons compared to my perplexities? What ought I to say? Ought I to drop a courtesy or go on my knees? There was an old romance which I found in the garret at home; and when the heroine did wrong she always dropped upon her knees and folded her hands, and raised her eyes toward heaven—is that the way I ought to do it?"
"Don't, don't, Kitty; you'll make me laugh, and then I'll be sent down.
Please, don't talk to me any more."
Kitty turned her attention to Mary Davies.
"Would you, Mary, go on one knee or on two? If you dip your hand down to the very bottom of my pocket, you'll find some caramels—some people like them better than chocolate creams."
"You must not talk to me any more or I'll get into disgrace," whispered Mary in a low, frightened voice. "Look, Miss Worrick has come into the room. Now do open your history book, there's a dear girl."
Kitty bent her curly head over her book. She was really interested in the cruel fate of the martyr-king, but at that moment she saw nothing but the picture she was conjuring up each moment before her excited imagination—the tall girl asking pardon of the little teacher. Was the girl to go on her knees?
"It really would be better," thought Kitty. "I'd be lower than her then. It does seem ridiculous that the big should ask pardon of the little, and—Oh, Miss Worrick, I beg your pardon; were you speaking to me?"
"I was, Kitty. Stand up; I am just going to lecture."
The history lesson began. Kitty did no better than yesterday. It came to an end. The mathematical teacher took her class, and then the great bell was rung for recess. Just at the moment when its last note echoed through the vast school Miss Worrick came a step forward into the room, and held up her hand to arrest the movement of the classes. She looked at Kitty with an expectant expression. Kitty returned her gaze, and said nothing. Kitty Malone felt glued to her seat. For a moment every nerve seemed paralyzed, her face became crimson, her eyes filled with ready tears, she looked down, the great tears splashed upon the desk before her. At that instant she encountered the vindictive and delighted glance of Alice Denvers.