Her English teacher, too, Professor Howe--- Blue Bonnet could not understand why a woman should be called Professor--was delightful. A storehouse of knowledge, she made the class work so interesting that the forty-five minutes of recitation usually passed all too quickly. Professor Howe was an unusually able woman, much looked up to by the Faculty and pupils. She was middle-aged--past the fortieth milestone, at any rate--and somewhat austere in manner. Those who knew her best declared that her stern demeanor was a professional veneer, put on in the classroom for the sake of discipline, and that underneath she was intensely human and feminine. She had charge of the study hall and acted as associate principal. Professor Howe interested Blue Bonnet. She didn't mind the austere manner at all. There was something behind it--a quick flash of the eye, a sudden smile, limited usually to a brief second; an intense, keen expression that acted like an electric battery to Blue Bonnet. It stimulated her to effort. No matter what else had to be neglected, English was invariably prepared. And, as admiration usually begets admiration, Professor Howe was attracted to Blue Bonnet. "Miss Elizabeth Ashe," she said to Miss North at the end of the second week, "promises to be a bright pupil. She has an unusually clear mind, and good judgment. She's going to be quite a stimulus to the class." Miss North seemed a little surprised. "That's rather odd," she said. "Miss Root told me only a half hour ago that Miss Ashe was very indifferent in her mathematics--absolutely inattentive." Professor Howe raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, but she made no comment. Blue Bonnet could have explained. If not to Miss North's satisfaction, to her own, entirely. She hated Miss Root, and she hated mathematics, which added fuel to fire. At the end of the third week of school Blue Bonnet was summoned to Miss North's office. Miss North looked serious as she motioned Blue Bonnet to a seat and opened the conversation. "I am very sorry to find that you are not doing well in your mathematics, Miss Ashe. What is the trouble?" "I hate mathematics and I dislike Miss Root," Blue Bonnet replied with a frankness that quite took Miss North's breath away. "That is very disrespectful, Miss Ashe; I cannot have you speak of one of your teachers in that way." "But I don't like her, Miss North, not a bit!" "That is not to the point. Why are you inattentive?" "I'm not. I am only stupid!" Miss North was obliged to smile. "I can hardly think that," she said. "I have excellent reports from other teachers regarding your work." Blue Bonnet let the compliment pass without any show of pride or pleasure. "I meant stupid in mathematics. I always have been." "Perhaps you haven't got hold of them properly. The difficulty often begins in the primary grades."