Miss Wewitz “came to” for a moment, and exclaimed—“Oh, you bad, bad, base girl—after all the attention I’ve paid to your morals, too! How you dare stand there and say such a thing, and not expect the floor to open under you, is a mystery to me! Oh, you wicked, wicked story, you! Where do you expect to go to, Miss? But you’ll write out the first chapter of Telemachus before you have any supper to-night—and it’s that cold rice-pudding that you’re remarkably fond of.” Then Miss Chutney, in her turn, gave vent to her feelings. “I’m sure, ma’am, it wasn’t my fault,” sobbed the girl—“it was you yourself that would lock him in the room with me, though I begged of you not to lock the door—but you would do it, and what could I do?” “Do!” retorted the angry Miss Wewitz—“_Do!_” (and this she pitched at least two octaves higher)—“you could have screamed, couldn’t you—or you could have pulled the bell—or even broken the windows,—it wouldn’t have mattered to you, they would have all gone down in the bill, you know. Don’t you think I would have raised the whole house, and the whole neighbourhood, indeed, if I had been, in your place. I’d have torn all the beard off the creature’s face by handfuls, that I would;—but you, of course, must hide the wretch away from your best friends, and pretend you had been looking out for the Great Bear—the Great Bear, you might well say, indeed—and the impudent monkey, too. But you’ll bring a scandal upon my school, you will—you wicked, wicked girl.” “Well, I don’t care how much I’m punished for it, Miss Wewitz—but I’m not to blame. If you were to stop my puddings for the whole of next “half,” it wouldn’t make me think otherwise. I didn’t want to be shut up with the man, but _you_ would do it.” “How dare you say I did it, Miss,” asked the schoolmistress, in her most authoritative manner, “when I didn’t?” “I’m sure you did, Miss Wewitz.” “How often am I to tell you not to contradict, Miss? I tell you I didn’t.” “I’m sure I don’t wish to contradict, ma’am, but I’m quite certain you did.” “There, you are contradicting again, Miss,—for I say, once for all, I didn’t.” “Well, then, I say you did.” “Hold your tongue, Miss Chutney, and remember whom you’re speaking to. Have I not informed you, Miss, that I did no such thing?” “Well, I don’t care, but I’ll stand to it as long as I’ve got a word to say—you _did_ lock me up alone with the Frenchman,—so there!” cried the headstrong East Indian.