So you see Fred did have a choice, though he said, and probably honestly thought, he did not.
Meg followed Bobby upstairs and into a large square room half filled with chattering children. A gray-haired lady was speaking to the young woman who stood near a desk on a small platform.
“That’s Miss Wright, the vice-principal,” whispered Bobby, indicating the gray-haired woman. “Mr. Carter, over at the grammar school, is the real principal. If you’re real bad, Miss Wright sends for him. But she opens assembly and like-a-that.” 32
Presently Miss Wright went out, and Bobby led Meg up to the teacher.
“This is my sister Meg,” he said politely. “She hasn’t any seat yet.”
“How do you do, Margaret?” said Miss Mason, smiling. “Your name is really Margaret, isn’t it? I like to use my pupils’ full names. I’m sorry your sister can’t sit with you, Robert, but I can’t mix the grades. You may have any seat on this aisle, Margaret.”
Poor Meg found it most confusing to be called Margaret, and was almost startled to hear Bobby addressed as “Robert.” Father Blossom occasionally called him that, but only when he meant to scold him. But Meg sensibly supposed that when one went to school there were a number of new things to get used to, and it seemed that names were to be among them.
She chose a seat half-way down the aisle and in a direct row with Bobby’s, which was on the other side of the room. And by the time she had made her choice and put away her pencil box, Miss Mason announced that it was five minutes of nine and that no child should leave the room. 33
Clang! A harsh gong rang through the halls. Clang! Clang!
The noise in the school yard ceased with a suddenness that was surprising. The gong rang again and a trampling and scuffling through the halls announced that the boys and girls were marching up to their classrooms. Miss Mason took her place at the door, and as a long line marched into her room she directed them where to sit. Meg wondered what she was to do with her hat.