"No-o-o, I don't like to," said Celeste, timidly.
Archie seemed to think this answer so remarkably funny that he gave way to a perfect shout of laughter. Then, perceiving the sensitive little creature on the verge of crying again, he stopped short by an effort, and said, apologetically:
"There! don't cry, sis: I wasn't laughing at you. I say, Miss Hagar," he added, springing abruptly to his feet as that ancient lady entered, "mayn't I bring Celeste to school? I'll 'tend to her as carefully as if she was my daughter. See if I don't."
A grim sort of smile relaxed the rigid muscles of Miss Hagar's iron face as she glanced benignly at his merry, thoughtless face over the top of her spectacles.
"Yes, she may go with you, and the Lord will bless you for your good, kind heart," she said, laying her hand fondly on his curly head.
Archie, throwing up his cap in the exuberance of his glee, said:
"Run and get ready, sis, and come along."
"No; wait until to-morrow," said Miss Hagar. "She cannot go to-day."
"All right; to-morrow, then, you've to make your debut in the school of St. Mark's. I say, Miss Hagar, what shall we call her? not your name—Dedley's too dismal."
"No; call her Pearl—she is a pearl," said Miss Hagar, while her voice became as gentle as such a voice could.