it?"

"Oh, _that_. Yes, a wasp was flying near us. I thought it was going to
settle on Priscilla Coupland's neck and I brushed it away with my pen."

Miss Pinwell could say nothing to this, especially as she distinctly
heard at that moment the hum of some winged insect. It _was_ a wasp, a
real one, not the insect of Lavinia's fervid imagination. The windows
were open and it had found its way in from Lamb's Conduit Fields, at a
happy moment allying itself with Lavinia.

Others heard it as well and sprang to their feet shrieking. The chance
of escaping from tiresome moral maxims was too good to be lost.

"Young ladies----" commanded Miss Pinwell, but she could get no further.
Her voice was lost in the din. The lady no more loved wasps than did her
pupils. She retreated as the wasp advanced. The intruder ranged itself
on the side of the girls and circled towards their instructress with
malevolence in every turn and vicious intent in its buzz.

The only one not afraid was Lavinia Fenton who, waving a pocket
handkerchief met the foe bravely but without success. The enemy refused
to turn tail. Other girls plucking up courage joined the champion and
soon the school-room was in a hubbub. Probably the army of hoydenish
maidens were not anxious the conflict should cease--it was far more
entertaining than maxims, arithmetic and working texts on samples--and
Miss Pinwell seeing this, summoned Bridget, the brawny housemaid, who
with a canvas apron finally caught and squashed the rash intruder.

It was sometime before the excitement died down, and meanwhile Lavinia