One could detect a slight tone of dissatisfaction in her voice, and she spoke with a decided pout.
"Well, perhaps she's not exactly pretty," said Mr Mawley, diplomatically; "but nice-looking, at all events--that was the word I used, Miss Bessie." "But she dresses so plainly!" said Lizzie Dangler.
"I call her quite a dowdthy!" lisped Baby Blake.
"And I say she's very nice!" said Seraphine Dasher, who had none of the petty dislike of her sex to praise another girl that might turn out to be a possible rival.
"That's right, my dear," said Miss Pimpernell; "I'm glad, Seraphine, to hear you take the part of the absent; Miss Clyde ought to be here now-- she promised me to come soon after luncheon." Even as the good old soul spoke, I heard the outer door of the school- room open, and a light footstep along the passage.

"There she is now, I do believe!" whispered Miss Pimpernell to me.
I could scarcely breathe.

I felt that I had at last arrived at the crisis of my life.

It must be _her_, I thought, for my heart palpitated with wild pulsations.
And, as the thought thrilled through me, my lost madonna entered the room.
I was not one whit surprised.

I had been certain that I should see her again!.