Juniper studied a paper and then marked it, and Jolla glanced at the mark and chuckled.
“At last,” Jolla said. “A student you don’t like.”
Juniper read the name on the paper. “Wintery Claus? He earned an A-.”
“That’s my point: For the past hour, you’ve only given your students A+s or As.”
“First of all, my students don’t get grades, they earn them. Second, if you put half as much effort into your assignments as you do others’, you’d be on honor roll.”
“Honor roll? Piece of cake, so long you taught all my classes and graded all my assignments.” She watched her sister shake her head. “Not certain how you disagree—you know I’m right.”
“Because it’s not a matter of just attending my classes and passing. You’d have to work to master each lesson. That’s not to say I wouldn’t assist you. But you would have to learn all you’re supposed to just as my current students have.” She patted Jolla’s head. “No short cuts, not even for you.”
On a rug before a crackling fire, they sat—one examining student papers, the other doing arithmetic homework. Before long however, Jolly gazed into the flames.