"Try again, Miss Durand," she said solemnly. "I came," said Alwynne blankly. "You see, I came----" She paused again. "Yes, I think I see that," said Clare, as one enlightened. Alwynne eyed her dubiously. There might or might not have been a twinkle in her colleague's eye. She took heart of grace and began again. "Miss Hartill, I'm awfully sorry! It was me--I, I mean, I kept the girls. I didn't hear the gong. Really and truly I didn't. Honestly, it was an accident. I thought I ought to come and apologise. Truly, I'm most awfully sorry, quite apart from avoiding getting into a row. Because I've got into that already." Clare's lips twitched. Alwynne was built on generous lines. She had a good carriage, could enter a room effectively. Clare had not been unaware of her secure manner. Her present collapse was the more amusing. Clare was beginning to guess that what Miss Durand did, she did wholeheartedly. "I expect you're simply wild with me. Miss Vigers said you would be," said Alwynne hopelessly. "Miss Vigers ought to know," said Clare. There was another pause. "I'm frightfully sorry," said Alwynne suggestively. "Are you, Miss Durand?" "I mean, apart from upsetting you, I'm so savage with myself. One doesn't exactly enjoy making a fool of oneself, does one, Miss Hartill? You know how it feels. And it's my first post, and I did mean to do it well, and I've only been here six weeks, and I'm in a row with three people already." "How--three?" said Clare with interest. "Well--there's you----" "I think we're settling that," said Clare, with her sudden smile. "Are we?" Alwynne looked up so warily that Clare laughed outright. "But the other two, Miss Durand--the other two? This grows interesting." "Well, you see," Alwynne expanded, "I had an awful row with Miss Vigers--and she's sure to tell Miss Marsham. I suppose I was rude, but she did make me so mad. I don't see that it was her business to come and slang me before my class." "My class," corrected Clare. "I wouldn't have minded you," said Alwynne, lifting ingenuous eyes. "I'm flattered," murmured Clare. "Well--you would have understood," said Alwynne with conviction. "But Miss Vigers----I ask you, Miss Hartill, what would be the use of talking about Napoleon to Miss Vigers?" "I give it up," said Clare promptly. "There you are!" Alwynne waved her hand triumphantly. "But, excuse me"--Clare was elaborately respectful--"has Napoleon any traceable connection with the kidnapping of my class?" "Oh, I thought I explained." Alwynne plunged into her story. "You see, I was giving them Elocution--they're learning the _Incident in the French Camp_--you know?" Clare nodded. "Well, I thought they were rather more wooden than usual, and I found out that they knew practically nothing about Napoleon! Marengo--Talleyrand--never heard of 'em! Waterloo, and that he behaved badly to his wife--that's all they knew!" "The English in a nutshell!" murmured Clare.