ned to obey. Now in olden
times there had been a row of benches in front of the platform upon
which the classes sat before their teacher, but these were gone and
instead were those magic folding seats, all closed up tight.
Elizabeth, still blind with fear, went to sit down upon a bench where
no bench was, and instead sat down soundingly upon the floor. A titter
of laughter ran over the room, and she sprang to her feet. She was
quite unhurt, except her dignity, but even this she did not notice.
The funny side of anything, though the joke was on herself, was always
irresistible to Elizabeth. Miss Hillary might kill her the next
moment, but for the present she must laugh, and laugh she did aloud,
showing her gleaming teeth in a short spasm of merriment. But the fun
vanished as quickly as it had come. She had no sooner struggled into
the unwilling seat, and looked up at her teacher, than she froze again
with apprehension.

Miss Hillary had arisen and was looking down at her, a red spot on
either cheek, her eyes angry and flashing. Elizabeth could not know
that the young teacher was in terror of the pupils, terror lest they
take advantage of her being a woman, and was nervously on the outlook
for signs of insubordination. She was almost as afraid of this
mischievous-looking, little brown thing as the little thing was of her,
and even suspected her of planning the ridiculous tumble for her own
and the school's amusement. Miss Hillary was weak, and displayed the
cruelty that so often characterizes weakness in a place of power.

"What is your name?" she demanded sternly.

"'Lizbeth," faltered the culprit. "'Lizbeth Gordon."

"How old are you?"

"Ten," whispered Elizabeth. She always said, "Going on eleven." But
now, feeling keenly that she had acted in a shocking manner, to be ten
did not sound quite so bad. A mature person on the road to eleven
would never, never be called to the front the first day of school!

"Well, Elizabeth Gordon," said Miss Hillary, "any big girl of ten
should have learned long ago that it is very rude and unladylike to sit
writing when her teacher is talking to her. I want you to remain in
this front seat, where I can watch you, until you have learned to be
mannerly. To ignore your teacher is extremely reprehensible, but to
laugh over your conduct is positively impertinent."

Poor Elizabeth crumpled up in a forlorn, little, blue-checked heap.
"Rude and unladylike!" Those were the