by his mechanical ignoring of
her, and his directness of statement. It was something new to
her. She had never been treated like this before, as if she did
not count, as if she were addressing a machine.

"It is too many," she said sympathetically.

"You'll get about the same," he said.

That was all she received. She sat rather blank, not knowing
how to feel. Still she liked him. He seemed so cross. There was
a queer, sharp, keen-edge feeling about him that attracted her
and frightened her at the same time. It was so cold, and against
his nature.

The door opened, and a short, neutral-tinted young woman of
about twenty-eight appeared.

"Oh, Ursula!" the newcomer exclaimed. "You are here early! My
word, I'll warrant you don't keep it up. That's Mr. Williamson's
peg. This is yours. Standard Five teacher always has this.
Aren't you going to take your hat off?"

Miss Violet Harby removed Ursula's waterproof from the peg on
which it was hung, to one a little farther down the row. She had
already snatched the pins from her own stuff hat, and jammed
them through her coat. She turned to Ursula, as she pushed up
her frizzed, flat, dun-coloured hair.

"Isn't it a beastly morning," she exclaimed, "beastly! And if
there's one thing I hate above another it's a wet Monday
morning;--pack of kids trailing in anyhow-nohow, and no
holding 'em----"

She had taken a black pinafore from a newspaper package, and
was tying it round her waist.

"You've brought an apron, haven't you?" she said jerkily,
glancing at Ursula. "Oh--you'll want one. You've no idea
what a sight you'll look before half-past four, what with chalk
and ink and kids' dirty feet.--Well, I can send a boy down
to mamma's for one."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Ursula.

"Oh, yes--I can send easily," cried Miss Harby.

Ursula's heart sank. Everybody seemed so cocksure and so
bossy. How was she going to get on with such jolty, jerky, bossy
people? And Miss Harby had not spoken a word to the man at the
table. She simply ignored him. Ursula felt the callous crude
rudeness between the two teachers.

The two girls went out into the passage. A few children were
already clattering in the porch.

"Jim Richards," called Miss Harby, hard and authoritative. A
boy came sheepishly forward.

"Shall you go down to our house for me, eh?" said Miss Harby,
in a commanding, condescending, coaxing voice. She did not wait
for an answer. "Go down and ask mamma to send me on