uthority in her voice. Sixteen faces
regarded her with decorous gaze, for Miss Edwards was still in the room,
and her pupils were quiet as mice in the presence of their Form
Mistress. Miss Edwards gave Lesbia a few necessary directions, told the
monitress to get out the dictation books, took her copy of _Caesar's
Gallic Wars_ from her desk, and departed to give a Latin lesson to IVB.
As soon as the door closed upon her a smile of intelligence passed round
the form. It was as if a string which had held together a chain of beads
had been suddenly cut. Girls who had sat before in erect attitudes began
to loll. Fidgety fingers played with pencils or raised their desk lids.
Two or three venturesome spirits were already whispering. There was a
subdued giggle from the back seats.

"Silence!" called Lesbia, rapping on Miss Edwards's desk; "Maisie
Martin, give out the dictation books!"

Maisie Martin, monitress for the month, was in no mood to hurry herself.
She took up the pile of books so carelessly that the middle ones
instantly dropped and distributed themselves over the floor. Pieces of
blotting-paper fluttered out in the fall and floated under the desks.
There was a general grabbing, accompanied by audible titters. Maisie
went down on her hands and knees, collecting the ruin with much
unnecessary fuss, and managing in her excursions after stray books to
give a surreptitious pinch or two at any pair of ankles that were within
range, provoking sharp "O-o-h's" from their owners.

"Come, Maisie! Don't be all day about it!" commanded Lesbia, wondering
whether her dignity as a teacher permitted her to help to pick up the
pile, and deciding regretfully that it did not. It is always so much
easier to do things quickly yourself than to force unwilling people to
make haste. The dictation books, when they left Miss Edwards's desk, had
been in exact order of the girls' places. Now, however, they were all
mixed up anyhow. Maisie had to look leisurely at the label on each, and
walk about the room handing them to their owners. She made a great
number of journeys in the process, and read the name on each label out
aloud in a halting kind of voice as if she were just learning to spell.
Lesbia curbed her impatience. She knew Maisie was trying how far she
could go. She judged it better, however, not to take too much notice.
Maisie was evidently showing off for the benefit of the form, and
reproof would probably check her movements still fu