"Well, yes," said Maggie, taking the news much more coolly than Bessie had supposed she would. "I s'pose you thought it was Gracie's composition; and it was."
"How do you know?" asked Bessie, starting up.
"'Cause last night I went to put the brush back in the drawer, and when I pulled it open I heard something rustle, and I peeped in, and poked till it fell out on the floor; and it was Gracie's paper, all mussed up and crumpled; I guess it came so, being squeezed up in the drawer. So you see she didn't take it away with her after all; but I do wonder how it came there."
"But why didn't you tell me?" asked Bessie.
"Why, I thought you had one unhappiness in your mind already," said Maggie; "and I knew you would feel rather sorry about this, so I thought I would not tell you till this morning. But, Bessie, why didn't you tell me, and why didn't you look again and be sure?"
"'Cause I didn't want to be sure. O Maggie! you were a great deal better than me. I tried to think I did not know what the paper was, and that I need not find out if I did not want to, and that it was not mine to do anything about, and that it would not be right to do such an unkind thing to you. But all I could do, it would seem as if it was a kind of a cheat, not very true; and I had to feel as if I ought to look again, and if it was really Gracie's paper to give it to her. But I could not help praying a good deal that our Father would not let it be the composition if He did not think it was very much the best. I think it was worse than about the hospital bed, Maggie. I did feel so sure yesterday that you would have the prize now."
"You darling, precious ducky!" said Maggie, "That was an awful temptation for you. Oh, I forgot! papa told me not to say 'awful.' But then that was really awful; so I can say it this time."
"Didn't you feel a bit like hiding it, Maggie?" said Bessie.
"Why, no," said Maggie. "I never thought about its being the composition, till I picked it up, and saw it was. But I felt as provoked as anything for a moment—I'm sure I don't know who at;—but I just felt that if it would not be so awfully—I mean so dreadfully—mean, I'd just like to tear the composition up. But after that I was more sensible; and then I remembered about you, and how you'd be provoked too; so I put the paper back in the drawer, and thought I'd tell you and mamma this morning, and then we'd take it to school for Gracie."
"I believe you're just the best, darlingest girl that ever lived!" exclaimed Bessie, looking at her sister in great admiration and relief. "And now, dear Maggie, I suppose you know what the unkind thing was I had to do to you; and you won't think me a bit crazy, will you?"