Miss Bousfield was sitting at a table, at which was also seated a young lady of about twenty, with an exercise book and dictionary in front of her.
Was it a trap?
Was I to be taught along with the girls after all?
Miss Bousfield evidently divined my perturbation and hastened to explain.
"Miss Steele, this is Master Jones, who is going to read Latin with us.
Miss Steele is one of my teachers, Jones, and we three are going to brush up our classics together, you see." Oh, all right.

That wasn't so bad.

I had no objection to assist Miss Steele, or Miss Bousfield, for the matter of that, in brushing-up their classics, as long as the girls at large were kept out of the way.
I acknowledged Miss Steele's greeting in a patronising way, and then looked about for a chair.

I wished Mr Evans and his lot could see how far removed I was from the common schoolgirl; here were two females actually going to pick my brains for their own good.

If women must learn Latin at all, they could hardly do better than secure a public schoolboy to brush them up.
"Now, let us see," said Miss Bousfield, "how far we have all got.