THE GOLDEN CALF




CHAPTER I.


THE ARTICLED PUPIL.

'Where is Miss Palliser?' inquired Miss Pew, in that awful voice of hers,
at which the class-room trembled, as at unexpected thunder. A murmur ran
along the desks, from girl to girl, and then some one, near that end of
the long room which was sacred to Miss Pew and her lieutenants, said that
Miss Palliser was not in the class-room.

'I think she is taking her music lesson, ma'am,' faltered the girl who
had ventured diffidently to impart this information to the
schoolmistress.

'Think?' exclaimed Miss Pew, in her stentorian voice. 'How can you think
about an absolute fact? Either she is taking her lesson, or she is not
taking her lesson. There is no room for thought. Let Miss Palliser be
sent for this moment.'

At this command, as at the behest of the Homeric Jove himself, half a
dozen Irises started up to carry the ruler's message; but again Miss
Pew's mighty tones resounded in the echoing class-room.

'I don't want twenty girls to carry one message. Let Miss Rylance go.'