The disgrace of this punishment was what Gypsy minded the most, though it was no slight thing to see so many "absent" marks going down on her report, when she was right in the room and had learned her lessons.
After what seemed to her an interminable time, the morning passed and the school broke up.

The children, controlled by that something in Miss Melville's manner, and by Gypsy's averted head and burning cheeks, left the room quickly, and Gypsy and her teacher were alone.
"Gypsy," said Miss Melville.
There was no answer.
"Gypsy." There came a faint "Yes'm" from behind the desk-cover.

Miss Melville laid down her pencil, closed her own desk, and came and sat down on the bench beside Gypsy.
"I wonder if you are as sorry as I am," she said, simply.
Something very bright glittered on Gypsy's lashes, and two great drops stood on her hot cheeks.
"I don't see what possessed me!" she said, vehemently.

"Why don't you turn me out of school ?" "I did not think you could willingly try to make me trouble," continued Miss Melville, without noticing the last remark.
The two great drops rolled slowly down Gypsy's cheeks, and into her mouth.
She swallowed them with a gulp, and brushed her hand, angrily, across her eyes.

Gypsy very seldom cried, but I fancy she came pretty near it on that occasion.
"Miss Melville," she said, with an earnestness that was comical, in spite of itself; "I wish you'd please to scold me.