Four seats across from her Bessy Bell leaned on her desk, with defiant calmness, and traces of scorn still in her expressive eyes.

Gail Matthews looked frightened and Helen Tremaine was crying.

Ruth Winthrop bent forward with her face buried in her arms.
"Girls," began Miss Hill, presently.

"I know you regard me as a cross old schoolteacher." She had spoken impulsively, a rare thing with her, and occasioned in this instance by the painful consciousness of how she was judged, when she was really so kindly disposed toward the wayward girls.
"Girls, I've tried to get into close touch with you, to sympathize, to be lenient; but somehow, I've failed," she went on.

"Certainly I have failed to stop this note-writing.