Lina gave Miss Dimple a sweet smile.
“There, now,” whispered she, “I’m glad I’ve got somebody to talk to.”
“But you musn’t talk much, Lina Rosenbug, and I shan’t never answer ’thout I’m a mind to.”
“Why not?”
“O, ’cause I’m going to be rather good; not dreadful good, but rather good. I’ve whispered too much, and now I’m going to take my screw-up pencil, and make pictures, most o’ the time.”
“Well, good by, Dotty Dimple.”
“What do you mean by good by?”
“’Sh! I mean, don’t talk any more now, ’cause Miss Parker’s getting ready to walk up the aisle.”
Lina began to study with all her might. Her teacher regarded her as a very good girl, because she did her mischief slyly. Lina was greatly interested in Dotty’s “screw-up pencil,” which had been a Christmas present, and in the afternoon tried to make Dotty use hers in exchange—a short wooden one; whose lead kept breaking off.
“But what do I want of such a thing, Lina Rosenbug? It won’t mark.”