She was perfectly
nice to Merle, but a little off-hand, and never showed her any
preference. This line of treatment rather aggravated Merle's symptoms
instead of curbing the tendency.
"I'll _make_ her like me!" she said to herself stubbornly.
The siege laid to the teacher's heart progressed slowly, partly because
Merle's tactics were noticed by the others and became somewhat of a joke.
Merle had placed a daily buttonhole of flowers upon the teacher's desk,
but, led by Muriel, the Fifth form rallied, and one morning each of them
appeared with a kindred posy and deposited her offering. Miss Mitchell
turned quite pink at the sight of the eleven floral trophies. She was not
absolutely sure how far it was meant for a 'rag.'
"This looks like a nature study competition!" she remarked. "I'm sure
it's very kind of you all to bring me flowers, but unless it's my
birthday or some special occasion I'm afraid I really don't know what to
do with them. You can put them all in water at eleven, Nesta, but you
mustn't waste time now fetching vases.
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