all about a
portcullis and a drawbridge and a donjon keep, and instead of simply
saying the note she volunteered an explanation of her own. It was what
Miss Holt would have encouraged, but Miss Arkwright kept strictly to
the lesson.

"I did not ask for your opinion, Sylvia," she said. "The notes given
in the book are quite sufficient, and you may confine yourself to
them."

On the whole Miss Arkwright was fair, but on one occasion Sylvia felt
herself really to be the object of a great injustice. A very difficult
grammar lesson was in progress, which most of the girls found
extremely hard to understand. Miss Arkwright had asked many questions
round the class, and now addressed one to Sylvia, who was top. She
missed, and the teacher turned to Marian, who sat next. Just at that
moment the bell rang, and, without waiting for Marian's reply, Miss
Arkwright closed her book and opened the register. Now that last wrong
answer had given Sylvia a bad mark, and she felt it was not just that
she should have had one more question than any of the other girls.

"I don't believe one of them knew it," she said to herself, "and if
the question had gone on they would all have missed too."

"Oh, Miss Arkwright, it's not fair!" she added aloud, getting up with
flaming cheeks at the sting of the thought that half a minute had
saved Marian's mark and lost her own. "I oughtn't to count that last
miss."

"Sylvia, if you speak to me like that again I shall order you to leave
the room," said the mistress, who prided herself on her good
discipline. "I think you must have forgotten yourself."

"It was mean of her," said Linda, trying to console her friend
afterwards. "When we were in Miss Coleman's form, and the bell rang
when a question was only halfway down the class, she always said:
"Don't count the last turn," because it wasn't fair unless we all had
the same chance of missing. But you did say it in such a cheeky way, I
think that was why she was so angry. It's no use trying to get her to
take it off now; when she's once said a thing she sticks to it and
nobody but Miss Kaye could make her alter it; and we shouldn't dare to
ask her; and if we did it wouldn't be worth it, because Miss Arkwright
would be twice as cross afterwards. You'll just have to grin and bear
it."

CHAPTER VI

Squabbles

By the time Sylvia was thoroughly settled in the Third Class another
trouble began to distress her. She had formed a great affection