manner said, louder than words, that she was displeased. It was a manner
which made Gypsy feel, for once in her life, that she had not one word to
say.

She busied herself with her books, and tried to look unconcerned when the
scholars came back. The arithmetic class recited, but her teacher did not
call for her; the history class, but no one spoke to Gypsy. The disgrace
of this punishment was what Gypsy minded the most, though it was no slight
thing to see so many "absent" marks going down on her report, when she was
right in the room and had learned her lessons.

After what seemed to her an interminable time, the morning passed and the
school broke up. The children, controlled by that something in Miss
Melville's manner, and by Gypsy's averted head and burning cheeks, left
the room quickly, and Gypsy and her teacher were alone.

"Gypsy," said Miss Melville.

There was no answer.

"Gypsy."

There came a faint "Yes'm" from behind the desk-cover. Miss Melville laid
down her pencil, closed her own desk, and came and sat down on the bench
beside Gypsy.

"I wonder if you are as sorry as I am," she said, simply.

Something very bright glittered on Gypsy's lashes, and two great drops
stood on her hot cheeks.