"Nothing,—just talked. She said it was wasting time and chalk, and that it wasn't honest. Such a fuss about a little chalk!"
Celia Fair, who had her hat on, ready to go home, came behind Belle, and with a hand on either side of her face she lifted it till the saucy eyes looked into her own. "Does that make any difference, really—because it is just chalk?" she asked.
Belle wriggled out of her hands, only to clasp her around the waist. "I wouldn't take your chalk," she said, laughing.
"I don't know what to think of you to-day," Miss Fair continued, looking around the group. "I am afraid Mrs. Graham will not trust me to keep study hour after this."
There was a general cry of, "Oh, Miss Celia, why not?"
"Do you think she can have a high opinion of my ability to keep order?"
"But no one else could do any better."
"If Mrs. Graham had been here, you would not have rushed to the window, I know very well."
"But we are so much fonder of you, Miss Celia," urged Charlotte.
"If that is the case I'd like you to show it by behaving," said Celia, as she left the room.