An Unsocial Socialist | Page 4

the third offender had changed from
yellow to white as she passed from the gray eastern twilight on the
staircase into the warm western glow in the room. Her face had a bright
olive tone, and seemed to have a golden mica in its composition. Her
eyes and hair were hazel-nut color; and her teeth, the upper row of
which she displayed freely, were like fine Portland stone, and sloped
outward enough to have spoilt her mouth, had they not been supported
by a rich under lip, and a finely curved, impudent chin. Her half
cajoling, half mocking air, and her ready smile, were difficult to
confront with severity; and Miss Wilson knew it; for she would not
look at her even when attracted by a convulsive start and an angry side
glance from Miss Lindsay, who had just been indented between the ribs
by a finger tip.
"You are aware that you have broken the rules," said Miss Wilson
quietly.

"We didn't intend to. We really did not," said the girl in holland,
coaxingly.
"Pray what was your intention then, Miss Wylie?"
Miss Wylie unexpectedly treated this as a smart repartee instead of a
rebuke. She sent up a strange little scream, which exploded in a cascade
of laughter.
"Pray be silent, Agatha," said Miss Wilson severely. Agatha looked
contrite. Miss Wilson turned hastily to the eldest of the three, and
continued:
"I am especially surprised at you, Miss Carpenter. Since you have no
desire to keep faith with me by upholding the rules, of which you are
quite old enough to understand the necessity, I shall not trouble you
with reproaches, or appeals to which I am now convinced that you
would not respond," (here Miss Carpenter, with an inarticulate protest,
burst into tears); "but you should at least think of the danger into which
your juniors are led by your childishness. How should you feel if
Agatha had broken her neck?"
"Oh!" exclaimed Agatha, putting her hand quickly to her neck.
"I didn't think there was any danger," said Miss Carpenter, struggling
with her tears. " Agatha has done it so oft--oh dear! you have torn me."
Miss Wylie had pulled at her schoolfellow's skirt, and pulled too hard.
"Miss Wylie," said Miss Wilson, flushing slightly, "I must ask you to
leave the room."
"Oh, no," exclaimed Agatha, clasping her hands in distress. "Please
don't, dear Miss Wilson. I am so sorry. I beg your pardon."
"Since you will not do what I ask, I must go myself," said Miss Wilson
sternly. "Come with me to my study," she added to the two other girls.
"If you attempt to follow, Miss Wylie, I shall regard it as an intrusion."

"But I will go away if you wish it. I didn't mean to diso--"
"I shall not trouble you now. Come, girls."
The three went out; and Miss Wylie, left behind in disgrace, made a
surpassing grimace at Miss Lindsay, who glanced back at her. When
she was alone, her vivacity subsided. She went slowly to the window,
and gazed disparagingly at the landscape. Once, when a sound of
voices above reached her, her eyes brightened, and her ready lip moved;
but the next silent moment she relapsed into moody indifference, which
was not relieved until her two companions, looking very serious,
re-entered.
"Well," she said gaily, "has moral force been applied? Are you going to
the Recording Angel?"
"Hush, Agatha," said Miss Carpenter. "You ought to be ashamed of
yourself."
"No, but you ought, you goose. A nice row you have got me into!"
"It was your own fault. You tore my dress."
"Yes, when you were blurting out that I sometimes slide down the
banisters."
"Oh!" said Miss Carpenter slowly, as if this reason had not occurred to
her before. "Was that why you pulled me?"
"Dear me! It has actually dawned upon you. You are a most awfully
silly girl, Jane. What did the Lady Abbess say?"
Miss Carpenter again gave her tears way, and could not reply.
"She is disgusted with us, and no wonder," said Miss Lindsay.
"She said it was all your fault," sobbed Miss Carpenter.
"Well, never mind, dear," said Agatha soothingly. "Put it in the

Recording Angel."
"I won't write a word in the Recording Angel unless you do so first,"
said Miss Lindsay angrily. "You are more in fault than we are."
"Certainly, my dear," replied Agatha. "A whole page, if you wish."
"I b-believe you LIKE writing in the Recording Angel," said Miss
Carpenter spitefully.
"Yes, Jane. It is the best fun the place affords."
"It may be fun to you," said Miss Lindsay sharply; "but it is not very
creditable to me, as Miss Wilson said just now, to take a prize in moral
science and then have to write