mmonplace
world.

"Elizabeth Bruce, what is that you have under your arm," Miss Sharman
inquired, as Betty walked to her place, which was somewhere in the
second form.

Betty looked in surprise--and there was her bonnet. She had to walk out
and hang it up, while the class, and even the babies tittered at her
blunder.

But there in the cloak-room she found John Brown. He was in the act of
hanging his hat upon his own particular peg--the highest one in the
room.

"Oh!" said Betty, "_here_ you are!"

"You're a nice one," said John Brown.

"What have I done?" asked the little girl eagerly.

But John Brown simply looked his scorn, and it made his face very ugly
indeed.

"Oh, what _have_ I done?" begged Betty. "Do tell me."

"Trust a girl to mull things up," said John.

"Elizabeth Bruce, return to your class," said a stern voice from the
schoolroom, and Betty shot herself back through the door in the
twinkling of an eye.

A lengthy space of valuable time was given over to moods and tenses,
perfects, pluperfects, pasts, futures; and Betty, whose fortitude was
much shaken by John Brown's remarks, sat listlessly five places above
him, caring not the least about such mighty words as "cans" and
"coulds" and "shalls" and "shoulds," although the air was full of them.

She went down a place, through not being able to find a passive
participle for the verb "to bid," Miss Sharman shaking an angry head at
her eager "bidded." And she went down two for knowing nothing of the
present tense of "slain."

That brought her one place removed from John Brown, and all her
eagerness now was to go one lower and learn at once wherein lay her
offence.

So, although she knew perfectly that the verb "to fall" had "fell" for
its past participle, she uttered an eager "failed" and sat next to John
Brown.

"Disgraceful!" said Miss Sharman. "You could not have opened your book,
Elizabeth (which was only too true). Your little sister Nancy, in the
babies' class, could have told you that."

But Elizabeth saved herself with the verb, "to sing," and sat uneasily
in case John should blunder over "to fight." But he was quite correct
and did not need his small neighbour's eager whisper.

And then Miss Sharman passed on to other verbs and other pupils, and
John and Betty were left in peace, side by side, outwardly two
indifferently intelligent pupils, inwardly perplexed, distressed and
elated by their new ambition.

"What have I done?" wh