Many years afterward Sarah said that nothing in her life had ever frightened her like the sight of Miss Ellingwood standing outside her door, with the water dripping from her hair and dress. Miss Ellingwood herself came to laugh heartily at it, but no amount of teasing could ever induce Sarah even to smile. It seemed an hour until Miss Ellingwood spoke, and in that time Sarah saw clearly not only the laughing, triumphant faces of her room-mates immediately before her, but of all the family at home: William and Laura, who were sending her to school at a great sacrifice, the twins and Albert, who had faith in her, and to whom she should have been an example. She seemed to hear herself trying to explain to them.

"You see, it was this way," she would begin. But she never got any further. There was no explanation, no excuse to make.

"This," they would say, "this is what you do with your education!"

In reality, it was only a moment until Miss Ellingwood spoke. Her eyes flashed; it seemed to Sarah that they would burn through her.

"Come to my room in half an hour. I don't want to hear anything from you now." Then she turned to the girls laughing behind her, and her eyes flashed still more brightly. Perhaps it was for their illumination that the flash existed. "You have been here for a year, and you know the rules of the school. Dr. Ellis will hold you responsible for any misconduct in this room, rather than a newcomer."

Ellen and Mabel looked at each other guiltily as Miss Ellingwood's door closed behind her. Then they went to their own room.

Sarah was not to be seen, and their uneasiness turned to fright. There was no exit save through the window, and they were on the third floor. It could not be possible that she was as badly frightened as that!

"Sarah!" cried Mabel sharply.

Sarah appeared from the closet. She had taken off her school dress, and carried the blue one across her arm.

"What are you going to do?" asked Ellen.

Sarah did not answer. If she tried to speak, she should scream. She would at least put on her second-best dress and brush her hair before she went to Miss Ellingwood's room. She remembered in agony that she had never worn her red dress; probably she would never have an opportunity now, at least at the Normal School. She looked at her little silver watch with eyes which could scarcely find the hands.

Mabel and Ellen avoided each other's glance, and sat down by the table.

"What is the History lesson for to-morrow, Sarah?" asked Ellen in a tone which was meant to be conciliatory.

Sarah silently pushed forward her note-book. She was dressed now and staring at her Physiology. "Man is the only living creature that can stand or walk erect." In what long-past stage of her life had she read that?

At twenty-eight minutes past eight, she closed her book and went into the hall, where, watch in hand, she lingered outside Miss Ellingwood's door until the hand pointed to the half-hour. Then, fearfully, she rapped.

A low "Come in" answered. It took all her strength to turn the knob. She saw nothing of the beautiful room with its books, its fireplace, its wide and crowded desk, its low tea-table; she saw only Miss Ellingwood entering from her bedroom beyond, her curls wet and shining, clad in a fresh, stiffly starched white shirt-waist and a dry skirt. She went across to the big chair before her desk, and turning her head away, stooped to straighten out some papers. She saw the blue dress, and the smooth hair. Both judge and defendant, she said to herself, were dressed for the occasion.

"Now, Sarah," she began, "suppose you tell me how it is that an inoffensive non-combatant, rapping at your door, is received with a shower of water. Your room-mates asked me to get you to let them in. They said that you had locked them out, and they couldn't study. Is this true?"

"Yes, ma'am," faltered Sarah.

"Why did you do it?"

"Because—they—ach!" Sarah burst into a flood of tears. She did not wish to tell on them, she could not bear to recount the foolish trick which had been played on her. It seemed so ridiculous now to have been taken in. It was so absurd,—her anxiety at hearing that William had come, her mystification at the foolish figure which met her at the door, her rage, when she realized what they had done. That was worst of all.

"Ach, if you will only let me make it up to you," she cried. "I will never do such a thing again. I will dry your hair if they are wet yet, and I could iron your shirt-waist, and if it is spoiled, I could try to earn some money to buy you a new one. Or William would send me the money right away. I could give you my umbrella to make up, or my f-fountain-pen. They are new—they—"

"Mercy, child!" Miss Ellingwood put her arm round Sarah, who in her anguish had moved close to her side. "Don't cry about my clothes, please. They are almost dry already, and water couldn't hurt them. I'll forgive you willingly, entirely, Sarah. But you must never do anything of the kind again. You see the evening study-hour is meant for work. You have long hours in the afternoon and earlier in the evening to play, and all day Saturday, and you need every minute in study-hour. By the time you get settled to work again, you will have lost a whole hour."

"I know it, I know it!" wailed Sarah. "That is the trouble. They will not let me study. When—when they are out I can study, but not when they are with. I will have to go home. I am anyhow too dumb for anybody to learn me anything."

Miss Ellingwood hid her face against Sarah's shoulder.

"Say that again, dear."

"Ach, I mean I am too—too stupid to be taught."

"That is better. Now—" Miss Ellingwood meditated for an instant. She did not approve of putting three persons into a room; even she and Laura had been a little crowded. It would be very difficult for this child to get into studious habits if she were constantly in the room with Ellen and Mabel. They were very evidently not diligent. "Suppose you bring your books over here this evening, Sarah. Perhaps you can study here."

Sarah was not gone for two minutes. Ellen and Mabel had disappeared, and she gathered her books together, made another dab at her hair with her stiff brush, and was back.

Miss Ellingwood had pulled a chair up to the side of her own desk.

"There, Sarah, is a chair and a foot-stool. Now, if I can help you, ask me." And she bent her head over her own work.

Peace descended upon Sarah's heart. Once, she sighed, and Miss Ellingwood looked up.

"Are you tired?"

"Ach, no! I am just thinking. It is so nice and still here. I could learn the whole book through."

Once she ventured to ask a question.

"Please, ma'am, it gives a word here. I cannot say it right, s-y-n, swine, t-a-x, tax, swinetax. Is that the way to say it?"

"No. S-y-n, sin—syntax. It is not English to say, 'it gives a word here,' Sarah. Try again."

"Here is a word," said Sarah painstakingly. "Ach,—no, I don't mean ach! But will you tell me sometimes when I am wrong?"

"Yes, indeed."

Sarah gazed at Miss Ellingwood with deep admiration and gratitude, and set again to work. She had only the simple Latin rules to commit to memory, and then all the lessons assigned her would be learned, even though it was not until the day after to-morrow that she recited them.

But the page of rules was the most difficult task she had attempted. The words seemed to dance before her eyes, the lines were crooked, the letters blurred. She propped her head on her hand, and rubbed her eyes a countless number of times.

Miss Ellingwood was too much engrossed by her task to see. Each year under the direction of the teacher of Elocution, the Junior class gave a play. It was given usually the week before Christmas, and Miss Ellingwood had selected an arrangement of Dickens's "Christmas Carol," whose spirit was so appropriate to the season. She was going over it now, so that the parts should be fresh in her mind before she began to get acquainted with the Juniors in her classes, and she smiled at old Scrooge and sighed over Tiny Tim. She had quite forgotten the student at her side.

Then, suddenly, there was a dull little bump, as her guest slid from her chair to the floor, asleep. Strange to say, the fall did not rouse her. Miss Ellingwood thought that she must be sleepy indeed.

"Come, Sarah," she said. "You must get up and go to bed."

With Miss Ellingwood's help, Sarah got up slowly, and sat down on her chair, and was immediately asleep once more. Miss Ellingwood was a little frightened. The child was evidently exhausted, which was not strange after her passion of tears. Miss Ellingwood glanced at her again, then at the couch which had been made up for a guest who had not arrived.

In a moment she went down the hall and rapped at the door of Sarah's room. No one was within. Smothered laughter a little farther down the hall implied the presence of Ellen and Mabel. Miss Ellingwood took a few steps in that direction, then returned. The warning bell would ring in a moment; after that, for fifteen minutes, the students were allowed to visit one another. This was really the first day of school, and rules were not so strictly kept. And Miss Ellingwood hated to scold.

She pushed open Sarah's door and went in, to look for her school dress and the things she would need for the night.

The smothered laughter became open shrieks as the warning bell rang.

"She's a perfect little spitfire," Ellen Ritter was saying. "I wish you could have seen her face when she saw me all dressed up. It was white and purple by turns, she was so angry."

Ethel Davis and Gertrude Manley, going arm-in-arm down the hall, had stopped at the door to hear, and the group of sub-Juniors opened to let them in. Blonde Ethel and dark-eyed Gertrude were Juniors, the next year they would be Middlers, and after that Seniors, and they sometimes allowed the dignity of their position to awe the sub-Juniors.

"I think it was a pretty mean trick to play on such a youngster," said Ethel hotly. "Now, if you had played it on Mabel, or Mabel on you, it might have had some point."

"Oh, she can take care of herself," laughed Ellen. "You needn't worry about her! Then she locked the door, and wouldn't let us in, and Mabel and I were very anxious to study, and—"

"Doubtless," laughed Gertrude.

"Well, we were, and we knocked and asked politely to be let in, and not a word would she say. So we went over to the new hall teacher and told her that we were afraid our little room-mate was ill. So she came over and rapped, and there was no answer but a wild yell. And then—"

Ellen rolled over on the bed, helpless with laughter, and Mabel took up the tale.

"Then out of the transom came a pitcherful of water,—bang!"

"Not on Miss Ellingwood!" said Ethel.

"Yes, right on Miss Ellingwood."

Mabel's cheeks were flushed with pleasure. Ethel and Gertrude never paid much attention to her, and it was delightful to have them listen so closely.

"What did she do?"

"Told the youngster to come over in half an hour, and the youngster put on her Sunday dress and went over."

"And what then?" asked a breathless sub-Junior. "Did Miss Ellingwood nearly murder her? That's what I should have done."

"No. I guess Sarah told her the whole tale, because in a few minutes she came back and got her books, and she's been over there all evening. There'll be no more fun on this hall with a teacher's pet spying on us. I suppose Miss Ellingwood will come in after the retiring bell, and read us a lecture."

But Miss Ellingwood did not appear except to say that Sarah would spend the night with her, and that she wished everything to be very quiet. Mabel and Ellen looked at each other after she went out.

"What did I say?" said Mabel. "She'll tell everything we do."

"We'll settle her," answered Ellen cheerfully. "Oh, dear, to-morrow the grind begins!"

Sarah did not see the sun rise the next morning, nor hear the first sounds of life in the great building. She did not even stir at the thunderous rising-bell. When she finally woke, she saw Miss Ellingwood standing by her bed.

"It's time to get up, Sarah."

Sarah rubbed her eyes.

"The rising-bell has rung, dear, and you'll just have time to jump into my bathtub and then get dressed quickly. Your things are all here."

Sarah looked confusedly about her, while she struggled out of bed.

"Did I stay here?"

"Yes."

"All night?"

"Yes."

"Did I oversleep myself?"

"No, you slept till just the proper time. Now, run along."

It was a pleasure to see the bright eyes and glowing cheeks with which Sarah presently appeared. She had never seen a bathroom like Miss Ellingwood's, she had never smelled such soap or seen so many mysterious brushes and sponges. She had been a little frightened by the depth of the cool water in the tub which Miss Ellingwood had filled for her. She did not like to say that she had never been in a bathtub before, because Miss Ellingwood seemed to expect her to know all about bathtubs. Miss Ellingwood had never lived on a farm.

Never before had Sarah dressed in such a physical and mental glow. She tied the ribbon on her hair just as the breakfast-bell began to ring.

"Come here, and I'll button your dress for you. I brought your school dress over. You poor little chicken, did you think that you would make a better impression on the ogress if you put on a better dress? If the girls bother you again, you must bring your books over here. Now, come along."

Sarah drew a deep breath of delight. She had never had such a good time. She looked once more about the pretty room before the door closed. Would she see it again? And then Sarah's heart was guilty of a very wicked wish.

"Ach, I wish," she said to herself, as they went downstairs to breakfast, "I wish those girls would cut always up so that I could not study!"