As they walked along Dorothy fell in step with Zada.
“Now don’t worry, dear,” she insisted. “I am sure everything will be all right.”
“But I must see you this afternoon,” said Zada. “I have made up my mind not to go to bed to-night until I have——”
“Hush,” cautioned Dorothy, for the others had turned around. Then they all reluctantly went back to the classroom.
Jean was sitting at her desk as they entered. She kept her head well bent over her books, but it could be seen that her face was flushed.
Tavia sat back defiantly, as if to say “she couldn’t scare me.” Meaning, of course, that Miss Cummings’ remarks had little, if any, effect upon her. She had missed her entire recreation, because she refused to “apologize politely.”
Altogether the class was rather upset. An atmosphere of disquiet pervaded the room, and when the teachers changed classes, Miss Cummings left the room with a sigh of relief.
Miss Higley, the teacher of mathematics, was not one to be trifled with. She was one of the oldest of the faculty both in years, and in point of service, and when she came in every one sat up straight.
But the day wore on, and finally the work was over. Dorothy was wondering what could have happened, as the result of Mrs. Pangborn’s talk with Jean—wondering if the report about her father could be false. But no look, or word told her.
By a strange coincidence, however, Mrs. Pangborn asked Zada to ride to the village with her, and this again separated Zada from Dorothy. Of course the teacher had noticed the girl’s nervous manner, and “took her out,” hoping the ride would improve her spirits. But Zada would much rather not have gone. In fact every time Mrs. Pangborn asked her a question she shook—shook lest the question might be a dreaded one.