"You mean
'affected,' my little girl, not 'afflicted,'" she said clearly, pausing
pedagogically, chalk in hand. "Look up the difference in your
dictionary, and if you can't understand, come to me and I'll explain it
to you--after you bring your excuse."

And Bep brought her excuse. The substitute, her cheeks glowing with
excitement, yet calm-voiced and pretending valiantly, saw the door open
nearly an hour later, and a hand thrust through waving an envelop, as
though it were a lightning-rod that might attract the storm of her wrath
away from the one who carried it.

Gravely, even encouragingly, Miss Kate Madigan read a prayer from Miss
Anne Madigan that the teacher would kindly excuse the tardiness of
Elizabeth, her niece. She placed it on file religiously, like a
confirmed devotee to red tape, and resumed her lesson to the baby
class, with a matter-of-course air that completed the routing of Bep.

But there was still another relative in the mixed primary--Frances. For
half a day the smallest of Madigans was supposed to be doing
kindergarten work, with a mild infusion of the practical in the shape of
a-b-c's.

It did not occur to this young lady to try to disown the substitute. On
the contrary, she was exceedingly proud of her proprietary interest in
the teacher. She leaned her plump hand upon that august person's knee in
all the easy charm of intimacy when the baby class gathered about her,
and was so intoxicated by reflected glory that she forgot the two
letters of the alphabet she was supposed to know.

There was one thing no Madigan--not even Kate--could pretend to: to be
patient was beyond them all, talented as they were.

"It's 'B,' Frank!" the substitute cried, in her exasperation forgetting
the dignified demeanor she had adopted. "Say 'B,' 'B,' you stupid!"

In that terrible moment Frank realized that there were drawbacks to
being too well acquainted with the teacher. Her eyes filled with tears
of chagrin. "'B, B, you stupid!'" she sobbed.

And a quick, clear laugh from the substitute completed the
demoralization of the mixed primary. It was not, strictly speaking, "in
order" when Mr. Garvan visited it.

* * * * *

Oh, to be out of school, at the end of that first day of adulthood! To
be unwatched, to be free, to be little and young, if that pleased one!
To walk up the hill and along the main street, and then, just as one was
about to turn the corner prosaically and mou