There are degrees of satisfaction or of disappointment, but Betty Lee
had never met what she would consider real trouble connected with her
school life until after Christmas in her freshman year.
The happy Thanksgiving vacation with Janet and Sue as her guests came
duly to a close after a pleasant Sabbath during which they went to
Sabbath school and church and spent part of the afternoon in wandering
around the main art gallery of the city, open to visitors. The girls
took an early morning train on Monday and Betty, more or less upset by
too many good times, went back to school not feeling much like study.
But neither did any one else and the teachers in the main, having had a
good rest themselves, seemed not to be too hard on any one.
Betty, however, buckled down to the work of what is always the hardest
term of the year, that before Christmas, and had many delightful
anticipations of that beautiful celebration. They could not “go to
Grandma’s” this year, but they could and did enjoy Christmas day
together. Accustomed, now, to the demands of the city school, she felt a
real satisfaction in the fact that her work was being well done and her
grades upon the cards such that she need not feel ashamed.
There were many interesting distractions toward Christmas and Betty
joined the Girl Reserves, the group that included freshmen in her high
school, in time to help with the Christmas basket which was to go to
make some one’s Christmas brighter. The stores, with their fascinating
windows, the hurrying crowds of shoppers, the entertainments and the
Christmas music, all had their accustomed charm; but Betty’s vacation of
only the one week, with an extra week‐end, was spent largely at home,
for none of the girls whom she knew well entertained and were absorbed
in home affairs.
Again it was hard to settle down to work, but Betty was anxious to do
well in the semester examinations and worked particularly hard on her
Latin and mathematics. By some shifting of pupils, Betty was now in the
adorable Miss Heath’s Latin class, though she had not begun the year
with her. Betty was always very shy with her teachers and although Miss
Heath was most “human,” as Carolyn said, and friendly with the girls and
boys there was a certain bound over which none of them stepped and Betty
never presumed even upon the privileges which she might have enjoyed, in
a chat or talk or consultation. It was characteristic of her family,
perhaps, to be independent. Even at home she always wanted to “get
everything herself” if she could, preferring to spend much more time
upon a problem rather than ask any one for light upon it.
And now Miss Heath, gave them an examination which they all felt was
important. Indeed she told them so. “It is going to help me find out
whether you have gotten the important things that I have tried to teach
you,” she said. “As you know, I have emphasized some things. Some things
we have gone over again and again. I see you smile, for you think that
we have gone over _everything_ again and again. So we have. But this may
help you, too, in reviewing for your semester finals. The questions for
those I do not make out, except in some line assigned to me by the head
of the department. This I call a review examination and its results will
be most interesting to me. This is not to ‘scare’ you at all, and it
will be recorded in my grade book as an ordinary test, but I want you to
_use your brains_ to the best of your ability. Day after tomorrow,
Thursday, at this hour, come prepared for a test.”
The next day a strange teacher was at the desk, a “substitute,” young
and worried. The boys who were in the habit of “acting up” performed as
far as they dared, Betty reported at home; and the girls giggled,
“because they couldn’t help it. It was so funny.”
“You have to know how to manage the freshmen in this school,” said
Carolyn to Betty on their way from the room. “I wonder if Miss Heath
will be back tomorrow. She looked half sick yesterday and took some
medicine as we went out.”
“Did she? I didn’t notice. That is too bad. I wonder if we’ll have the
test, then.”
“Oh, of course. That would be the easiest thing for a substitute to give
and she wouldn’t miss doing it, I should think. But perhaps,” Carolyn
hopefully added, “perhaps Miss Heath couldn’t make out the questions.”
“She talked as if she had them already made out,” thoughtfully returned
Betty, determined to go over all the vocabulary and the paradigms
hardest for her to remember. “I’m going to put all the time I can on
Latin tonight.”
“I’m not,” laughed a boy behind Betty, who had caught her last words.
“We have basketball practice and I’m invited to a good show tonight. Oh
boy!”
Betty smilingly remarked that he’d better not miss a little study even
if he did know everything, but the lad grinned and shook his head as he
passed her.
“I don’t like Jakey,” said Carolyn, as her eyes followed him and the
confused group of boys and girls, passing and repassing in the hall.
“He’s smart as can be and gets along in Latin better than I do, but
there’s something tricky about him once in awhile and he’s so terribly
conceited. He can’t stand it when you can answer a question that he has
missed or can’t put up his hand for. I know. I’ve watched him. Did you
see those boys change their seats? _She_ didn’t know any better and they
did it for fun I suppose, just to do something.”
“Do you mean during class?”
“No. Just before class began. Jakey slid into that one just behind you.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“_She_ may, if they are in different seats tomorrow.”
————
The zero hour came. Betty looked at the questions on the board. Oh, they
weren’t so bad. It was fair. There were the special things that Miss
Heath had emphasized, some of the hardest to get, to be sure, but Betty
had studied hard and she had freshened up on the vocabulary lists and
some of the rules of syntax, for she dreaded the translations, sentences
that Miss Heath would make up, some of them at least.
Betty’s cheeks were hot, but she worked away. Mercy, her fountain pen
had given out. She took a pencil and found its point blunt. Hastily she
traveled to the pencil sharpener and put on it as sharp a point as
possible. Miss Heath did not want them to use pencil for examinations if
it were not necessary; but this wasn’t the semester final, when Carolyn
said you _had_ to use ink, they said. But she’d better sharpen two
pencils, perhaps.
Betty scarcely saw the rest of the scholars as she returned to her desk
for another pencil, so absorbed was she in thoughts of the examination
questions. There was a whisking of something on several desks as she and
some one else passed down parallel aisles at the same time, she to
return, the other to go to the pencil sharpener. As she sat down and
looked off thoughtfully at the board, the teacher was looking in her
direction and two of the boys were chuckling behind her.
The teacher rapped for order and Betty, turning, caught a glimpse of
Peggy, who was looking daggers at somebody behind Betty. But Betty was
finishing her paper. The time was nearly up. She read over what she had,
put in a long mark over a vowel in one of the declensions, looked for
other omissions or mistakes, and puzzled over her last English to Latin
sentence. She hoped it was right. There went the bell. Betty made ready
her paper. Now it was handed in. Now they were in the hall. The test was
over. What a relief!
“Did you see what those boys were doing?” asked Peggy, as Betty and
Carolyn caught up with her at the door of the room where they were
entering for another class.
“No, what was it?” questioned Carolyn, but the teacher just then
beckoned Betty, to give her back a paper that she had failed to return
with the rest given out to the class, and Betty missed Peggy’s reply.
“That was a very good paper, Betty,” said her teacher. “I found it with
some sophomore papers where it had gotten by mistake.”
Betty was disappointed to find only an eighty‐eight for her grade, but
she knew that anything over eighty was good with Miss Smith. Tests were
popular just now at Lyon High. All too soon would come the semester
finals!
————
The busy week ended and Monday came again. The same young substitute was
in Miss Heath’s place. She was “terribly cross” with the boys, Peggy
said, but she didn’t blame her. Four or five of the freshman boys tried
to see how far they could go and went a little too far for their own
good, for when there was some chalk throwing at the blackboard, during
written exercises there, the teacher called several boys by name to take
their seats and see her after class. “If any one else longs to be sent
to detention, he or she may just keep on with the fun as these have
done!”
There was an immediate cessation of performances, for D. T., as it was
called, was not popular.
“By the way,” the teacher added, “I should like to see after class for a
moment Betty Lee and Peggy Pollard.”
Betty, who was at the board, pausing in her work to listen to the
startling interruptions, was surprised to hear her own name. What could
the teacher want with her? But after a surprised look at the somewhat
grim face of an otherwise attractive young woman, Betty turned again to
the board and finished the verb synopsis on which she was engaged. The
class work went on as usual, with correction and assignments by the
teacher, recitation and occasional question on the part of the class.
The boys who had been told to stay remained in their seats at the close
of class and Betty, raising her eyebrows at Peggy, gathered up her books
and went to one of the front seats to wait the teacher’s pleasure. She
felt in a hurry, for she was due at study hall on this day and it was on
the third floor, quite a climb from the basement floor.
With eyes demurely on her books, she listened to a brief and sharp
rebuke delivered to the boys, who scurried out of the room as soon as
they were ordered to “detention” that evening, immediately after the
close of school. At “detention” some victim among the teachers, who took
turns at the disagreeable task, was in charge of a room devoted to the
derelicts from duty who had from one cause or another been assigned to
an extra hour in study after their classmates and others had gone. How
long that extra hour! And when there was “doubly D. T.” or detention for
several days, alas!
That Betty was to receive any rebuke was the last thing that she
expected, though she was nervously wondering for what she was asked to
stay. She looked inquiringly, and in Betty’s unconsciously sweet way, as
the boys disappeared, and was beckoned to a seat in front of the desk.
“Come also, Peggy Pollard,” said the teacher, Miss Masterman. “I believe
this is Peggy, isn’t it?”
“Yes’m, and that’s Betty Lee.”
“Peggy, did you exchange papers with any one Thursday?”
“No’m,” replied Peggy, looking surprised.
“Did you communicate with any one?”
“No’m.”
“Think a minute. Are you sure that you did not say anything?”
“No’m–oh, yes, I did say something, but it wasn’t anything about the
examination. One of the boys was acting smarty and I told him to stop
it.”
“Just what did you say?”
“It wasn’t very polite,” said Peggy, her face very red, but her lips
curving into a smile. “I told him to mind his own affairs and leave me
alone. I was mad for a moment.”
“Are you sure that was all of the communication?”
“Yes’m, perfectly sure. I was too _busy_!”
“Very well. You may go, Peggy. That is all.”
The teacher’s face was calm and cold as she turned to Betty. Peggy had
flown from the room in relief and Betty heard her unlocking her locker
outside in the hall. She wondered if Peggy would wait.
“Please wait here a few minutes, Betty Lee,” said Miss Masterman. Betty,
wondering, waited. She didn’t like the way the teacher looked at her.
What _could_ she have done to offend her. It couldn’t be anything like
what Peggy was kept for. Why, she’d been “busy,” too, and had scarcely
noticed anything except the questions and her paper. Besides, this
teacher hadn’t walked around like Miss Heath, to go to the rear
sometimes and know just what everybody was doing. She hadn’t seemed to
be a bit suspicious that day. Miss Masterman now left the room.
In the next room her voice was to be heard. Why, she was telephoning–the
office, Betty supposed. Mer_cee_! what in the world was the matter?
Betty’s hands were cold. She grew more scared every minute. Perhaps
something was wrong at home and Miss Masterman had gotten word. No, she
had looked at her as if she had done something. Perhaps she’d have to go
to detention, if not tonight, then tomorrow!
Betty unpiled her books and piled them up again. She would leave all but
her algebra in her locker tonight. There! Miss Masterman was coming
back. She walked to her desk, took up a book, looked at it, put it down,
gathered up some papers and put them inside the desk, went after her
wraps and laid them across one of the desks. She was almost as uneasy as
Betty felt. Probably she wanted to get home, though it was still the
last period.
At last she said, “I suppose you are anxious to know why I am keeping
you. You are to go to the office of the assistant principal and he is
busy with some other pupils still. He or someone will telephone me when
he is ready for you. He seems to have a good deal of business tonight.”
Miss Masterman smiled disagreeably. “It is in connection with cheating
at examination that he wants to see you,” and Miss Masterman looked
keenly at Betty as she made this statement quickly in a sharp tone.
Betty gasped. “Why, Miss Masterman! I don’t know anything about any
cheating in the examination!”
“So?” coolly replied Miss Masterman. “Tell that to the assistant
principal, then.”
“Do–do you mean that you think I _cheated_?” vigorously asked Betty.
“I think that very thing.”
“Then you are mistaken, Miss Masterman,” said Betty, firmly and with
some dignity. “I hope to be able to prove it.”
The telephone bell rang just then and Miss Masterman answered it,
saying, “at last,” as she crossed to the room.
Betty, too, thought “at last.” She was trembling from head to foot; but
a little anger at the injustice of the charge sustained her and she
remembered the kind face of the assistant principal. He had some
children. Maybe he would listen to her. But what could she say, only
tell him that she did not cheat. How did they think she could? Miss
Heath would have called the assistant principal by his name in speaking
of him–oh, if only Miss Heath had been there at that examination!