"D-o, do; g-o, go," she said mechanically, and looked anxiously from little Elizabeth to her stern son, the master of Wygate School.
Elizabeth jerked her head, "Mrs. Sharman," she said.
"Sit down and fold your hands behind you," ordered the master. He turned to the new boy. "John Brown," he said, "go and take your seat next to Elizabeth Bruce—but one above her."
The new boy moved across the room, red-faced and clumsy in every movement. When he found himself in front of the class he grew still redder, and hung hesitatingly upon the step that led to the platform upon which the form was placed.
Elizabeth looked at him disdainfully and drew her dress close around her.
"Sit down, you silly," she said in a sharp whisper, and indicated with a little head toss the seat above her.
John Brown slunk past her and dropped heavily into his seat. The master retired to his desk and made an entry or two in his long blue book while silence hung over the schoolroom.
In Elizabeth's heart a flame of anger was spreading. That this boy, this new boy, should be placed above her, was in her eyes the greatest injustice. A small voice within told her that she had been punished sufficiently yesterday afternoon.
Her head moved slightly in the direction of the new boy and her rosy lips opened.
"You cheat!" she whispered.