s more.
I was standing near the window--through the double frames of which the
morning sun was throwing its mote-flecked beams upon the floor of what
seemed to me my intolerably wearisome schoolroom--and working out a
long algebraical equation on the blackboard. In one hand I was holding a
ragged, long-suffering "Algebra" and in the other a small piece of chalk
which had already besmeared my hands, my face, and the elbows of my
jacket. Nicola, clad in an apron, and with his sleeves rolled up, was
picking out the putty from the window-frames with a pair of nippers, and
unfastening the screws. The window looked out upon the little garden. At
length his occupation and the noise which he was making over it arrested
my attention. At the moment I was in a very cross, dissatisfied frame of
mind, for nothing seemed to be going right with me. I had made a mistake
at the very beginning of my algebra, and so should have to work it out
again; twice I had let the chalk drop. I was conscious that my hands and
face were whitened all over; the sponge had rolled away into a corner;
and the noise of Nicola's operations was fast getting on my nerves. I
had a feeling as though I wanted to fly into a temper and grumble at
some one, so I threw down chalk and "Algebra" alike, and began to
pace the room. Then suddenly I remembered that to-day we were to go to
confession, and that therefore I must refrain from doing anything
wrong. Next, with equal suddenness I relapsed into an extraordinarily
goodhumoured frame of mind, and walked across to Nicola.

"Let me help you, Nicola," I said, trying to speak as pleasantly as I
possibly could. The idea that I was performing a meritorious action in
thus suppressing my ill-temper and offering to help him increased my
good-humour all the more.

By this time the putty had been chipped out, and the screws removed,
yet, though Nicola pulled with might and main at the cross-piece, the
window-frame refused to budge.

"If it comes out as soon as he and I begin to pull at it together," I
thought, "it will be rather a shame, as then I shall have nothing more
of the kind to do to-day."

Suddenly the frame yielded a little at one side, and came out.

"Where shall I put it?" I said.

"Let ME see to it, if you please," replied Nicola, evidently surprised
as well as, seemingly, not over-pleased at my zeal. "We must not leave
it here, but carry it away to the lumber-room, where I keep all the
frames stored and nu