How cold they were for a girl of such an organization! The teacher went back to her seat.

She made an excuse for quitting the schoolroom soon afterwards.

The first thing she did was to fling the flower into her fireplace and rake the ashes over it.

The second was to wash the tips of her fingers, as if she had been another Lady Macbeth.

A poor, over-tasked, nervous creature,--we must not think too much of her fancies.
After school was done, she finished the talk with the master which had been so suddenly interrupted.