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“We don’t know a thing,” said Betty. “Of course, we wouldn’t ask her, and it must be terrible to come back to teaching after just saying goodbye to your husband. But I imagine that she will tell us things after a while. Isn’t she a dear?”

On the next morning, the returned teacher met her classes as usual, a group of friendly girls clustering around her desk before the first recitation. A little before the second bell, one of the senior girls came in, her finger on a difficult line in Horace’s Satires, and said, “I simply can not understand, Dr. Carver, what he means!”

“Dr. Carver!”

“‘Dr. Carver’, indeed, do you want to insult her?”

The senior looked up wonderingly at the girls who thus exclaimed, for she was not conscious of having used the wrong name. Then she laughed. “Please forgive me, Miss West, I did not realize what I was saying. My mind was on those lines I could not get. Why, what is wrong now? You are all laughing!”

Mrs. Norris laughed, too, patted the senior’s arm and said, “Never mind, you will get used to the change. I don’t mind at all. If you forget, you need not apologize, but try to get it right the next time. There is the bell. Take your seats, please.”