Mrs. Clavering stood beside her desk and looked down the long school-room.  The room contained at this moment every girl in the school, also the teachers.  Florence glanced in the direction of Bertha Keys.  She was standing just where a ray of light from one of the windows caught the reflection of her red hair, which surrounded her pale face like a glory.  She wore it, not in the fashion of the day, but in an untidy and yet effective style.  The girls of the day wore their hair neatly plaited and smooth to their heads.