Other questions met with an equally disheartening response. Miss Carmichael sat up straight, pushed back the persistent curls from her face, and bent every energy towards the achievement of a “firm” demeanor.
“Clematis,” said she, wisely selecting perhaps the least formidable of the class, “I want you to give me some idea of the kind of work you have been doing, so that we may all be able to understand each other. Now, in your mathematics, for instance, which of you have finished with your arithmetic, and which—”
“What do you mean?” begged Clematis, somewhat tearful.
“Where are you in your arithmetic?
“Nowhere, ma’am.”
“Do you mean you have never learned any?” Mary Carmichael shuddered as she icily put the question.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is that the case with all of you?”
Emphatic nods left no room for doubt.
“Then we’ll leave that for the present. If you will tell me, Clematis, what kind of work you have been doing in your history and English, we will get to work on those to-day. What books have you been using?”