"Are you unwell?" asked the teacher, kindly.
"No," murmured Lucy.
"Then go to your seat," said Miss Parker, a little sternly; "and never ask me again to let you go home unless you have a good reason."
"I wouldn't mind her, she's as cross as she can be," whispered Julia Staples, as she took her seat at Lucy's side.
Lucy knew Miss Parker was not cross, yet she felt a little comforted by Julia's seeming interested in her trouble, and placed her hand in hers under the desk, as if to thank her new friend; for Julia Staples had seldom spoken to her before.
Wearily the hours of school passed away. At last the clock struck one, and the children were dismissed. Lucy was hurrying off, when Julia Staples called after her to wait, for she was going that way. Lucy did not like to be disobliging, and therefore stood still until her companion was quite ready.
"I hate school, don't you?" said Julia, as they walked along.
Now Lucy did not hate school, she generally found it very pleasant; but she thought it would seem childish to say so to a large girl like Julia Staples; so she answered, rather awkwardly, "Yes, I did not like it to-day."
"I can't bear Miss Parker," continued Julia, "she's so partial; I know you don't like her, from the way you looked at her this morning."
Lucy did like Miss Parker, for she had often drawn the little girl to her side, and spoken very tenderly to her, more tenderly than any one had done since her own mother's death, and she was therefore glad that they came that moment to the road which led to Julia's home, for there they must part.