I rose, trembling, blushing, feeling as if every pair of eyes in the hall were burning like redhot balls on my face.

I tried to move, but my feet were glued to the floor.
"Gabriella Lynn!" The tone was louder, more commanding, and I dared not resist the mandate.

The greater fear conquered the less.

With a desperate effort I walked, or rather rushed, up the steps, the paper fluttering in my hand, as if blown upon by a strong wind.
"A little less haste would be more decorous, Miss." The shadow of a pair of beetling brows rolled darkly over me.

Had I stood beneath an overhanging cliff, with the ocean waves dashing at my feet, I could not have felt more awe or dread.