“Ask permission when you want to come into the office,” snapped the teacher. “And recitation hour is not the time for idling about. What is your class, Miss?”
“I have half an hour with Miss Mingle next. But she isn’t ready for me,” replied Dorothy.
“Humph! that is an extra. You may skip that to-day and go to your next regular recitation.”
“But my music——”
“I have charge here, Miss Dale. You and your friends would better understand it. I find the entire first class almost unmanageable. Aren’t you due at rhetoric and grammar?”
“If Miss Mingle had not called me—yes,” said Dorothy, feeling revolutionary. Miss Olaine certainly was trying!
“Go to your class, then—at once!” commanded the teacher. “And remember that while I am in charge of Glenwood School, you girls do not have free access to this office. Ask permission if you wish to consult any book here.”
And Dorothy had not found the address she desired! She went out of the room very angry at heart with Miss Olaine. She was so angry, in fact, that she felt just like disobeying her flatly!
That was not like sensible Dorothy. To antagonize the teacher would aid nobody; yet she felt just like doing so.
Instead of mounting the stairs to the classroom in which the present recitation was under way, and from which she had been excused for her music lesson, she ran out of the building altogether and went around to the window of the dressing-room where Tavia was confined.