Brenda's Ward / A Sequel to 'Amy in Acadia'

by Helen Leah Reed

"What became of your spot?" asked Martine, mischievously, as she met Priscilla.

"Hush," replied Priscilla; "don't talk about it now, it's too, too disturbing. But I finished my theme for to-day," she continued more brightly, "and now I suppose we shall hear the result of the prize essays."

"If I had known prizes were to be given for these essays, I might not have sent mine in."

"Are you afraid that you'll get the prize? Really, I think there's no danger."

Marie Taggart was noted for her sharp tongue, and Martine controlled the quick reply that rose to her own lips.

"Come, Priscilla," she cried, turning to her friend, "let me lead you to your seat, so that I can be free to hunt about for a laurel wreath. I should hate to be unprepared when the prize is awarded you."

There was an expectant air throughout the class as Miss Crawdon arose to announce the result of the essay contest. A moment or two later Priscilla's name was called by Miss Crawdon, and as she stepped forward to receive the prize, no one in the school begrudged her what they knew she had gained by careful and conscientious effort. But everyone, even Martine herself, was amazed when Miss Crawdon added, "I have here a small card of honorable mention for two girls, one of them Martine Stratford and the other Inez Galbraith, who are only second to the prize-winner; and although their side of the argument, 'The sword is mightier than the pen' is the less popular, I am glad to commend them for the independence shown in their work."

Martine's brow contracted as she heard Miss Crawdon's words. She had little pleasure in the commendation bestowed on her, for suddenly she realized that in letting Lucian help her she had probably done wrong. It is true she had thought out each point for herself, following in many cases Lucian's suggestion, and she had added many things that her brother had not thought of; yet, with it all, she was quite sure that, but for Lucian's help, she never in the world could have written the essay. Therefore the smiles of approval that met her as she went to her seat almost stung her, and Priscilla later, at recess, was surprised at Martine's irritability when she asked her how she had managed to deceive them all by pretending that she could not write.

Yet Martine had no intention of cultivating an over-sensitive Puritan conscience. She was an honest girl on the whole, never intentionally untruthful, although sometimes lacking, perhaps, in frankness. This latter quality was the one that Priscilla had especially criticised during their journey through Acadia. In the present instance Martine was not quite sure to what extent she was right, to what extent wrong. If only she could talk it all over with Priscilla.

"Priscilla, I know, will advise my telling Miss Crawdon, and then perhaps the whole thing would have to be explained to the school, and I should feel awfully mortified. It isn't as if I had won a real prize, or kept anyone else out of anything—and I have worked hard enough over my English to get something. So I'll just imagine it's all right and let it go."