“Oh, Miss Olaine! the train was late, and we stopped on the way to——”
“That will do, Miss Travers,” said the teacher. “Other girls who came on that train were here ten minutes ago.”
“But they ran their legs off,” sniffed Tavia, when the teacher broke in with:
“And you took your time, of course, Octavia. Ten lines extra—Latin—Tuesday morning. I will point out which lines Monday. That is all.”
Tavia flared up and was evidently about to make the matter worse. But Dorothy pinched her, and pinched hard.
“You remember what we agreed coming over from the train,” she warned. “Swallow it like a man!”
“Oh—oh!” gasped Tavia. “She does make me so mad, Doro.”
“You wouldn’t have got the condition if you had kept still. That tongue of yours, Tavia, is like what Mrs. Hogan accused Celia of having: It’s hung in the middle and wags at both ends.”
“Well! it’s not fair!” grumbled her school chum.
“Of course not; but we agreed, fair or not, to bear with Miss Olaine—and to urge the other girls to bear with her. When she sits and wrings her hands and bites her lips so, we know what she is thinking of; don’t we?”