Miss Rutherford, strict disciplinarian when her nerves were not
unstrung, was as good as her promise with regard to the copy-books.
She had returned within the twenty minutes, and the first thing she
did was to walk along all the benches, making a comment here, a
correction there, in another place giving a word of praise. Then she
took her place at the raised desk whence she was wont to survey the
little room.
There were present thirteen pupils, the oldest of them turned
fifteen, the youngest scarcely six. They appeared to be the
daughters of respectable people, probably of tradesmen in the
neighbourhood. This school was in Lisson Grove, in the north-west of
London; a spot not to be pictured from its name by those ignorant of
the locality; in point of fact a dingy street, with a mixture of
shops and private houses. On the front door was a plate displaying
Miss Rutherford's name,--nothing more. That lady herself was
middle-aged, grave at all times, kindly, and, be it added, fairly
competent as things go in the world of school. The room was rather
bare, but the good fire necessitated by the winter season was not
wanting, and the plain boarding of the floor showed itself no
stranger to scrubbings.
Pages:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27