III 
GRAY LADY AT SCHOOL 
Tue silence inside the school continued a full minute, 
that seemed like an hour, and the dripping of the rain 
from the gutter was so plain that Sarah found herself 
counting the drops — “One — two — three — four — 
splash !” 
Fifteen pairs of eyes were fastened upon the newcomer, 
and, as she caught the various questions in them, the 
colour in her cheeks deepened. Suddenly she recognized 
her little friend whom she had met on the hillside the 
week before. ‘Sarah Barnes,” said Gray Lady, “ will 
you not tell me the names of your schoolmates and intro- 
duce me to them? It is always so much more pleasant 
when we are looking at people, places, or things to know 
what they are called.” 
Then Sarah, delighted at being remembered when 
she had begun to be quite sure that all her hopes 
were in vain, guided by an inborn instinct of politeness 
that told her it would not be civil to stand at her desk 
and call out the various names, marched solemnly up 
to the teacher’s desk and, beginning in the front row 
with her own little sister Mary, repeated the fifteen 
names in full, with the greatest care and distinctness, 
and each child, not knowing what else to do, bobbed up 
and answered, “‘ Present,” the same as if teacher had been 
18 
