“Don’t you know me?” she said. “Or are you too absorbed with this—this wonderful discovery, to notice that I am one of the St. Wode’s girls.”
“Of course I know you; you are Annie Colchester, the queer, extraordinary girl who was almost as enthusiastic as I am to win distinction, to solve problems, to acquire the great, the glorious possession of knowledge.”
“I am the same,” answered Annie; “although in some ways my views have changed.”
“Don’t tell me so. If you are one of those who put their hand to the plough and then look back I will have nothing to do with you. By the way, you have passed your exam before now; how have you succeeded?”
“I have not succeeded at all—that is, I have only just taken an ordinary.”
“And you meant to take a first-class in honors?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have done poorly.”
“I know I have,” replied Annie, hanging her head.
“Let me look at you,” said Belle. She went straight up to her, put her hand under Annie’s chin, and lifted up the blushing face.