Carmella Commands
“Yes, Miss Kelly!” said Carmella.
Mr. Carroll read the excuse. Then he looked through his glasses at Carmella. He had decided to probe some of these facile documents.
“Why were you translating?” he asked.
“Because dad can’t talk English enough to do business,” said the girl.
“What was the business?”
“Selling real estate out in Greendale.”
“What time of day did the transaction take place?”
“We left the city at eleven-thirty,” answered Carmella.
“Then why”—Mr. Carroll was suddenly stern—“didn’t you come to school for the first two hours?”
“Because you’d have made a row over my getting excused at eleven, and you know it, Mr. Carroll.”
The surprised principal took off his reading glasses and stared at Carmella.
“You know it,” she repeated.
“Are you sure I would?” he asked.
“Well, Miss Kelly would, anyway. And I simply had to be there, Mr. Carroll. You don’t know⸺”
“I know,” he said reassuringly. “But you’ve been away a good deal this term.”
“Have I, Mr. Carroll?” she asked.
For answer he turned to a card index. Gravely he read to her the dates on which she had been absent. There were more than Carmella remembered.
“Well, gosh, Mr. Carroll,” she said, “when your
[119]
