surely that terrifies you?

ARTHUR. No, ma'am.

PHOEBE. Arthur, why did you fight with that street boy?

ARTHUR. 'Cos he said that when you caned you did not draw blood.

PHOEBE. But I don't, do I?

ARTHUR. No, ma'am.

PHOEBE. Then why fight him? (Remembering how strange boys are.) Was it for the honour of the school?

ARTHUR. Yes, ma'am.

PHOEBE. Say you are sorry, Arthur, and I won't punish you.

(He bursts into tears.)

ARTHUR. You promised to cane me, and now you are not going to do it.

PHOEBE (incredulous). Do you wish to be caned?

ARTHUR (holding out his hand eagerly). If you please, Miss Phoebe.

PHOEBE. Unnatural boy. (She canes him in a very unprofessional manner.) Poor dear boy.

(She kisses the hand.)

ARTHUR (gloomily). Oh, ma'am, you will never be able to cane if you hold it like that. You should hold it like this, Miss Phoebe, and give it a wriggle like that.

(She is too soft-hearted to follow his instructions.)

PHOEBE (almost in tears). Go away.

ARTHUR (remembering that women are strange). Don't cry, ma'am; I love you, Miss Phoebe.

(She seats him on her knee, and he thinks of a way to please her.)

If any boy says you can't cane I will blood him, Miss Phoebe.

(PHOEBE shudders, and MISS SUSAN again darts in. She signs to PHOEBE to send ARTHUR away.)

MISS SUSAN (as soon as ARTHUR has gone). Phoebe, if a herring and a half cost three ha'pence, how many for elevenpence?

PHOEBE (instantly). Eleven.

MISS SUSAN. William Smith says it is fifteen; and he is such a big boy, do you think I ought to contradict him? May I say there are differences of opinion about it? No one can be really sure, Phoebe.

PHOEBE. It is eleven. I once worked it out with real herrings. (Stoutly.) Susan, we must never let the big boys know that we are afraid of them. To awe them, stamp with the foot, speak in a ferocious voice, and look them unflinchingly in the face. (Then she pales.) Oh, Susan, Isabella's father insists on her acquiring algebra.

MISS SUSAN. What is algebra exactly; is it those three cornered things?

PHOEBE. It is x minus y equals z plus y and things like that. And all the time you are saying they are equal, you feel in your heart, why should they be.

(The music of the band swells here, and both ladies put their hands to their ears.)

It is the band for to-night's ball. We must not grudge their rejoicings, Susan. It is not every year that there is a Waterloo to celebrate.

MISS SUSAN. I was not thinking of that. I was thinking that he is to be at the ball to-night; and we have not seen him for ten years.

PHOEBE (calmly). Yes, ten years. We shall be glad to welcome our old friend back, Susan. I am going in to your room now to take the Latin class.

(A soldier with a girl passes—a yokel follows angrily.)

MISS SUSAN. Oh, that weary Latin, I wish I had the whipping of the man who invented it.

(She returns to her room, and the sound of the music dies away. MISS PHOEBE, who is not a very accomplished classical scholar, is taking a final peep at the declensions when MISS SUSAN reappears excitedly.)

PHOEBE. What is it?

MISS SUSAN (tragically). William Smith! Phoebe, I tried to look ferocious, indeed I did, but he saw I was afraid, and before the whole school he put out his tongue at me.

PHOEBE. Susan!

(She is lion-hearted; she remembers ARTHUR'S instructions, and practises with the cane.)

MISS SUSAN (frightened). Phoebe, he is much too big. Let it pass.

PHOEBE. If I let it pass I am a stumbling-block in the way of true education.

MISS SUSAN. Sister.

PHOEBE (grandly). Susan, stand aside.

(Giving the cane ARTHUR'S most telling flick, she marches into the other room. Then, while MISS SUSAN is listening nervously, CAPTAIN VALENTINE BROWN is ushered in by PATTY. He is bronzed and soldierly. He wears the whiskers of the period, and is in uniform. He has lost his left hand, but this is not at first noticeable.)

PATTY. Miss Susan, 'tis Captain Brown!

MISS SUSAN. Captain Brown!

VALENTINE (greeting her warmly). Reports himself at home again.

MISS SUSAN (gratified). You call this home?

VALENTINE. When the other men talked of their homes, Miss Susan, I thought of this room. (Looking about him.) Maps—desks—heigho! But still it is the same dear room. I have often dreamt, Miss Susan, that I came back to it in muddy shoes. (Seeing her alarm.) I have not, you know! Miss Susan, I rejoice to find no change in you; and Miss Phoebe—Miss Phoebe of the ringlets—I hope there be as little change in her?

MISS SUSAN (painfully). Phoebe of the ringlets! Ah, Captain Brown, you need not expect to see her.

VALENTINE. She is not here? I vow it spoils all my home-coming.

(At this moment the door of the other room is filing open and PHOEBE rushes out, followed by WILLIAM SMITH who is brandishing the cane. VALENTINE takes in the situation, and without looking at PHOEBE seizes WILLIAM by the collar and marches him out of the school.)

MISS SUSAN. Phoebe, did you see who it is?

PHOEBE. I saw. (In a sudden tremor.) Susan, I have lost all my looks.

(The pupils are crowding in from MISS SUSAN'S room and she orders them back and goes with them. VALENTINE returns, and speaks as he enters, not recognising PHOEBE, whose back is to him.)

VALENTINE. A young reprobate, madam, but I have deposited him on the causeway. I fear—

(He stops, puzzled because the lady has covered her face with her hands.)

PHOEBE. Captain Brown.

VALENTINE. Miss Phoebe, it is you?

(He goes to her, but he cannot help showing that her appearance is a shock to him.)

PHOEBE (without bitterness). Yes, I have changed very much, I have not worn well, Captain Brown.

VALENTINE (awkwardly). We—we are both older, Miss Phoebe.

(He holds out his hand warmly, with affected high spirits.)

PHOEBE (smiling reproachfully). It was both hands when you went away. (He has to show that his left hand is gone; she is overcome.) I did not know. (She presses the empty sleeve in remorse.) You never mentioned it in your letters.

VALENTINE (now grown rather stern). Miss Phoebe, what did you omit from your letters that you had such young blackguards as that to terrify you?

PHOEBE. He is the only one. Most of them are dear children; and this is the last day of the term.

VALENTINE. Ah, ma'am, if only you had invested all your money as you laid out part by my advice. What a monstrous pity you did