"No, no, little Belle," said Miss Ashton, speaking in the gentle, excusing tone which all, teachers and scholars, used to the motherless child of an over-indulgent, rather spoiling father. "No, no, little Belle: that is naughty. You would not be unfair to Gracie even for your favourite Maggie, would you?"
"Yes'm," said Belle decidedly; "I would. Maggie is the best."
"But it is who has the best composition, not who is the best child," said Miss Ashton. "And we are not the judges of that; all must have the same chance."
"I wish I were the judges," said Belle, regardless of grammar; "and I would give prizes for everything, and all to Maggie and Bessie; but only one for Miss Ashton," and she patted affectionately the hand about her waist. "Anyhow, Gracie can't get that now. When it rains, it will be all spoiled."
The girls laughed at the satisfied tone and nod of the head which accompanied these words; but Miss Ashton said, "Oh no, Belle! I shall send Marcia out to pick it up. We must all be just to one another; must we not, Bessie?" and she smiled into the earnest eyes which were looking up into hers, though she had no idea of the struggle which her truthful little scholar had gone through before she could make up her mind that, justice to Gracie was not something very like injustice to her own dear Maggie.
"Well," said Kate, laughing and rubbing Maggie's cheeks between her hands till they were even rosier than was natural to them, "if the composition prize were to go by favour, we all know who would have it; do we not, Maggie?"
Yes, this was so; and Gracie, really a pleasant, affectionate child, had arrayed all her schoolmates against her by her self-conceit and vanity, till not one of them was ready to be pleased at the possibility of her gaining the prize.
She lay upon the sofa that afternoon, recovering from the headache into which she had cried herself. She still looked as if she felt very wretchedly both in mind and body, and lay idly playing with the tassels of the sofa-cushions, thinking, thinking of her lost treasure. Her father sat by the table, writing; her mother by the window, playing with her little brother.
"Why," said Mrs. Howard, looking out of the window to see what had called forth such a delighted exclamation from Charlie, "here are Maggie and Bessie with their nurse. Coming to see why you have not been to school, I suppose, Gracie."
"I don't want to see them, and I won't, now!" said Gracie pettishly, flouncing herself around. "I know they've come to let me see how glad they are about to-morrow."