Eleanor should be scared, or nervous, or something, because Emma was already going through ways to teach her a lesson in her head. As the classroom started to fill around her, Emma kept her gaze focused forward, her back and shoulders straight, and her uniform smoothed down. She didn't bother to give Branstone another comment, because the very fact that she said it didn't matter, well, Emma took to mean that it absolutely did. And if it didn't, it certainly would soon.