SARAH BROWN SPEAKS HER MIND.
"Now where do you suppose they came from, Marion? I don't know of any one round here who has a conservatory; they must have come from Springfield. Who could have sent them?" asked Sarah Brown.
"I'm sure I don't know; aren't they lovely?" replied Marion; "but here comes Miss Christine,—let's ask her. Miss Christine," she said, turning round quickly as her teacher entered the room, "who sent you these lovely flowers yesterday?"
Miss Christine started at the abrupt, point-blank question, and looked a trifle confused:—
"Why, really, Marion, I—that is,—M. Béranger sent them here; but, as the box had no address, I presume they were for the benefit of the whole school. I certainly did not intend to monopolize them."
"No, of course you didn't, you dear old Christian!" exclaimed Marion with the affectionate familiarity she often used towards her teacher; "of course you didn't; and as they were meant for all of us, you won't mind it a bit if I appropriate this little sprig of geranium, and do just as I've a mind to with it, now will you?"
"No, I don't think I could refuse that, although it does seem a pity to take it out of water. Why, Marion, what are you going to do with it?—put it in my hair! No, no, it's too pretty, and it will wither in such a little while; do take it out!"
"No, I shan't do any such a thing. You gave it to me to do just what I chose with it, and I choose to have it in your hair; so you must not take it out."
"No, Miss Christine, don't!" exclaimed Sarah Brown. "You ought to keep it in, even if it's only to please Marion, for most girls would have stuck it in their own heads; but she never says anything or does anything like most girls."
"Hold your tongue, Sarah!" peremptorily replied Marion; "you don't know what you're talking about."