I was a newcomer of Miss Burn's seventh grade. Past"newcomer"experiences had been difficult, so I was very anxious to fit in. Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. Their chat was friendly, so I began to relax. My new classmates filled me in on the school, the teachers and the other kids. it wasn't long before the class herd was pointed out to me: Mary Lou. Actually she called herself Mary Louise. A formal, overmodest young girl with old-fashioned clothes, she wasn't ugly--not even funny looking. Practical shoes, long wool skirt and a blouse completed the image of a complete herd. The girls' whispers got louder and louder. Mary Lou didn't notice this. After school, the girls invited me to join them in front of the school. Arms wrapped around her backpack, Mary Lou came down the school steps. The _ began--rude, biting comments and disrespectful words from the girls. I paused, then joined right in. My force began to pick up as I approached her, mean remarks falling from my lips. I even pulled the belt of her backpack and then pushed her. The belt broke, Mary Lou fell. Everyone was laughing and patting me. I fit in. But I was not proud. Something inside me hurt. Mary Lou got up, gathered her books and--without a tear shed--off, she went. She held her head high as a small trickle of blood ran down from her injured knee. I turned to leave with my laughing friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. His skin, dark hair and handsome features told me this was her father. Respectful of Mary Lou's proud spirit, he remained still and watched the lonely girl walk toward him. Only his eyes--shining with both grief and pride--followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that spoke to my shame and scolded my heart. He didn't speak a word. No scolding from a teacher or a parent could linger as much as that hurt in my heart from the day a father's eyes taught me kindness and strength and dignity. I never again joined the cruel herds. I never again hurt someone for my own gain. Mary's father  _  after he saw what happened to her daughter.
felt shameful and angry for his daughter felt sad and proud for his daughter's bravery felt it necessary to teach the writer a lesson felt it a pity that she didn't fight back
Question: I was a newcomer of Miss Burn's seventh grade. Past"newcomer"experiences had been difficult, so I was very anxious to fit in. Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. Their chat was friendly, so I began to relax. My new classmates filled me in on the school, the teachers and the other kids. it wasn't long before the class herd was pointed out to me: Mary Lou. Actually she called herself Mary Louise. A formal, overmodest young girl with old-fashioned clothes, she wasn't ugly--not even funny looking. Practical shoes, long wool skirt and a blouse completed the image of a complete herd. The girls' whispers got louder and louder. Mary Lou didn't notice this. After school, the girls invited me to join them in front of the school. Arms wrapped around her backpack, Mary Lou came down the school steps. The _ began--rude, biting comments and disrespectful words from the girls. I paused, then joined right in. My force began to pick up as I approached her, mean remarks falling from my lips. I even pulled the belt of her backpack and then pushed her. The belt broke, Mary Lou fell. Everyone was laughing and patting me. I fit in. But I was not proud. Something inside me hurt. Mary Lou got up, gathered her books and--without a tear shed--off, she went. She held her head high as a small trickle of blood ran down from her injured knee. I turned to leave with my laughing friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. His skin, dark hair and handsome features told me this was her father. Respectful of Mary Lou's proud spirit, he remained still and watched the lonely girl walk toward him. Only his eyes--shining with both grief and pride--followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that spoke to my shame and scolded my heart. He didn't speak a word. No scolding from a teacher or a parent could linger as much as that hurt in my heart from the day a father's eyes taught me kindness and strength and dignity. I never again joined the cruel herds. I never again hurt someone for my own gain. Mary's father  _  after he saw what happened to her daughter.
A. felt shameful and angry for his daughter
B. felt sad and proud for his daughter's bravery
C. felt it necessary to teach the writer a lesson
D. felt it a pity that she didn't fight back
Answer: