We all felt that; and we all found out that everybody else felt it.

But as usual the question was, what to do?
It was almost impossible to speak to one another, so closely were we watched, and even when we did, we discovered that we were all at sixes and sevens, and agreed only on one thing, which was that we _could not_ stand it.
At length one day, to our infinite jubilation, as we were dismally walking from the schoolroom to the parlour, we saw the front door open.
A fly was standing at it, and as we passed, the Henniker in her Sunday get-up was stepping into it! What had we done to deserve such a mercy?
She was going to pay a state call somewhere, and for one blessed hour at any rate we should be at peace! A council of war was immediately held.

For once in a way Stonebridge House was unanimous.

We sunk all minor differences for a time in the grand question, what should we do?
A great many wild suggestions were immediately made.
Rathbone undertook, with the aid of any two other fellows, to inflict personal chastisement on the public enemy.
This was rejected peremptorily.

It would be no use, we should catch it all the worse afterwards; besides, bad as she was, the Henniker was a woman, and it would be cowardly to thrash her.
"Tie up her hands and feet and gag her," suggested Philpot.
Wouldn't do again.