"
"Well," I said, "I always seem to be the one that gets something--something
that's bad and horrible."
"I think that Mlle. Virtud is sick," continued Paula.
"You're always thinking of that woman. I tell you, it doesn't make any
difference to me what happens to her," I said impatiently.
"Oh, Lisita, aren't you ashamed to say such a thing?"
"No," I said, "How do you expect me to like her? No matter what I do in the
class she punishes me for the slightest thing; and not only do I suffer in
class, but I get twenty-five lines to copy after school, so that I have no
time to play with the rest of them. How I do detest that woman!"
"Of whom were you speaking?" asked Teresa, who appeared at that moment.
"Of the school-teacher, Mlle. Virtud."
"I have a good mind to box your ears," cried Teresa indignantly. "You
detest such a fine young lady who works in your behalf."
"Oh, Teresa, don't be angry," I said. "You have no idea how she makes me
suffer. When you were little you never went to school, so you do not
understand. Now, listen--instead of keeping the bad children after school,
she sends us all home with twenty to fifty lines to copy, while she goes
calmly back to her house.
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