There was a special little lift to her feelings today, however, as Alice entered her classroom. She was a few minutes later than usual, it being her habit to arrive a good fifteen minutes early in order to greet the boys on their arrival and prepare her papers and books. Today several of her students were already in their seats, and Alice was pleased to note that the Larsen twins were among them. Such good boys! she thought as she greeted them with her sunniest smile, a smile reserved only for her best students, and never, for example, for a teaching colleague.
As she sat down at her big oak desk, being sure to pull her sensible-length charcoal-grey skirt down over her knees, Alice thought she knew why she was feeling that little lift. It was certainly because of the papers that the Larsen twins had handed in, and which she had read pleasurably the night before. Miss Appleton had had them read their composition papers to the class two weeks before, and as she bent her pretty dark head over the current assignment, Alice decided that she must have them repeat this performance.
Gradually the classroom filled, and Alice pretended not to notice the little whispers and scuffles that always were a prelude to the final bell. When the bell rang however, the students were always forced to observe the most rigid silence, as Alice Appleton stood and seriously surveyed them from behind her desk.
"Good morning, boys!" she said now, taking them in one by one, noting by each boy's expression whether or not he was likely to have shirked on his homework.