“Matilda Stebbins and Comfort Pease, stand out on the floor,” said Miss Tabitha Hanks, sharply. Comfort gave a great jump—the teacher had been standing at the blackboard with her back toward them, and how had she seen? Never after that did Comfort feel quite safe from Miss Tabitha's eyes; even if they were on the other side of the wall she could not quite trust it.
“Step right out on the floor, Matilda and Comfort,” repeated Miss Tabitha, and out the two little girls stepped. Comfort's knees shook, and she was quite pale. Matilda looked very sober, but her black eyes gave a defiant flash when she was out on the floor and saw that her sister Rosy had lowered her arm and was looking at her with gentle triumph. “You see what you've got because you called my ring brass,” Rosy seemed to say; and Matilda gave a stern little nod at her, as if she replied, “It is brass.”
Poor little Comfort did not feel much sustained by the possession of her real gold ring. It was dreadful to stand out there facing the school, which seemed to be a perfect dazzle of blue and black eyes all fastened upon her in her little red gown and gingham tier, in her little stout shoes, which turned in for very meekness, with her little dangling hands, which could not wear the gold ring, and her little strained face and whispering lips, and little vain heart, which was being punished for its little vanity.
They stood on the floor until recess. Comfort felt so weak and stiff that she could scarcely move when Miss Hanks said harshly, “Now you can go.” She cast a piteous glance at Matilda, who immediately put her arms around her waist and pulled her along to the entry, where their hoods and cloaks hung. “Don't you cry,” she whispered. “She's awful strict, but she won't hurt you a mite. She brought me a whole tumbler of currant jelly when I had the measles.”
“I sha'n't whisper again as long as I live,” half sobbed Comfort, putting on her hood.
“I sha'n't, either,” said Matilda. “I never had to stand out on the floor before. I don't know what my mother will say when I tell her.”
The two little girls went out in the snowy yard, and there was Rosy, with Charlotte Hutchins and Sarah Allen, and she was showing them her ring. It was again too much for sensible little Matilda, weary from her long stand on the floor. “Rosy Stebbins, you are a great ninny, acting so stuck up over that old brass ring,” said she. “Comfort Pease has a real solid gold one, and she don't even wear it.”
Rosy and Charlotte Hutchins and Sarah Allen all stared at Comfort. “Have you?” asked Charlotte Hutchins, in an awed tone. She was a doctor's daughter, and had many things that the other little girls had not; but even she had no gold ring—nothing but a chameleon.
“Yes, I have,” replied Comfort, blushing modestly.
“Real gold?” asked Rosy, in a subdued voice.