think of such a lovely thing as to upset the ink and get sent to
wash my hands instead of doing horrid dictation?"

After disposing of this interruption, Lesbia continued with the
adventures of Sir Samuel Baker, despite the long words, refusing even to
give the spelling of proper names, such as Nyanza and Gondokoro,
declaring that all had an equal chance of getting them right.

"Or wrong!" growled Gwennie, under her breath.

"It's a quarter to eleven; and we always begin to correct them,"
volunteered the officious Jess Morrison.

Lesbia glared in her direction, but accepted the hint. It would need due
time to correct the crop of mistakes which might certainly be expected.

"Change books!" she commanded, and, when the transfer had been effected,
proceeded to go through the paragraphs, spelling the words, in the midst
of which process arrived Dorothy (still with ink-stained sleeves though
with cleaner fingers), who promptly asked her to begin again at the
beginning as she had lost half.

There are limits to patience, and Lesbia's was at an end.

"You'll sit down and take 'missed' for your dictation, Dorothy Holding!
Do you think I'm going to delay the form on your account? If I've any
more trouble with you you'll go to Miss Tatham. Do you understand?"

Dorothy evidently did, for she subsided quietly into her desk, and the
other girls took warning and behaved themselves. For five minutes a
blessed peace reigned in IIB. Nobody was more absolutely thankful when
the eleven o'clock bell rang than Lesbia. The ordeal of her first lesson
was over, and, though things had not gone altogether smoothly, she had
managed the form by herself, and had not been obliged to call in the
assistance of any other teacher to read the riot act.

"They're imps! Sixteen cheeky, mischievous imps!" she decided, as she
walked round the gymnasium eating her biscuit lunch. "But I believe I
can tackle them. I dare say I shall have a row or two now and then, and
I don't mean to stand any nonsense from either Madam Dorothy Holding or
Jess Morrison. All the same, Lesbia Ferrars, you didn't think you could
do it, and you _have_ done it. That's something to sing 'O, Jubilate'
about at any rate. You'll lick those kids into shape before you've done
with them. Help! What a life! It's going to be a facer of a term."

CHAPTER VIII

Before the Curtain

When Lesbia looked back upon the events of the last few months, and
compared the beginning o