"Did you call us, DEAR Miss Wilson?"

"Yes. Come up here, if you please, all three."

There was some hesitation among them, each offering the other
precedence. At last they went up slowly, in the order, though not at all
in the manner, of their flying descent; followed Miss Wilson into the
class-room; and stood in a row before her, illumined through three
western windows with a glow of ruddy orange light. Miss Carpenter, the
largest of the three, was red and confused. Her arms hung by her sides,
her fingers twisting the folds of her dress. Miss Gertrude Lindsay, in
pale sea-green, had a small head, delicate complexion, and pearly teeth.
She stood erect, with an expression of cold distaste for reproof of any
sort. The holland dress of the third offender had changed from yellow to
white as she passed from the gray eastern twilight on the staircase into
the warm western glow in the room. Her face had a bright olive tone, and
seemed to have a golden mica in its composition. Her eyes and hair were
hazel-nut color; and her teeth, the upper row of which she displayed
freely, were like fine Portland stone, and sloped outward enough to have
spoilt her mouth, had they not been supported by a rich under lip, and
a finely curved, impudent chin. Her half cajoling, half mocking air,
and her ready smile, were difficult to confront with severity; and Miss
Wilson knew it; for she would not look at her even when attracted by
a convulsive start and an angry side glance from Miss Lindsay, who had
just been indented between the ribs by a finger tip.

"You are aware that you have broken the rules," said Miss Wilson
quietly.

"We didn't intend to. We really did not," said the girl in holland,