But Miss Olaine went on with her instructions to the class, and did not see the paper. She sat there, looking out over the class, and Tavia began to wonder if ever she would drop her gaze and see that blue-penciled paragraph in the War Cry staring up at her.
Tavia really became so nervous that she could not follow the trend of the lesson at all. Once more Miss Olaine asked her a question, and the girl floundered most desperately and could not answer.
She could only think just then of Dorothy. Suppose Miss Olaine should accuse Dorothy of putting the paper there? Dorothy’s name was on the label pasted upon the margin of the paper.
“You evidently have no interest in this recitation, Miss,” said the teacher, sneeringly, when Tavia had made another lamentable exhibition of incompetence.
“Oh, yes, I have, ma’am,” gasped Tavia.
“You may come to me after school this afternoon and explain, then, why you show so little interest now,” declared the teacher.
Then her gaze dropped to the desk. She saw the paper, and Tavia saw that her attention was almost immediately fixed by the marked paragraph.
There was a sudden silence in the room. Of course, the other girls knew nothing about the interest Tavia had in what the teacher was reading; but to her it seemed as though everything came to a standstill while Miss Olaine read and digested the paragraph.
She suddenly looked up and Tavia saw a deep flush come into her sallow cheek. She fumbled the paper, too, with shaking fingers. Her lips parted as though she were about to speak angrily.
Then the color left her face as though all the blood had been drained from her arteries in an instant! She sank back in her seat, with the back of her head against the chair.