speech, and make them
all laugh at Phoebe.

"I was ashamed of myself already, for saying a mean thing of one of my
classmates, even to one girl, and I certainly did not intend to repeat
the remark for the benefit of the whole class.

"'I can't tell you before them all, Miss Abbie,' I said, desperately,
'but I will tell you all by yourself. It was something I had no
business to say.'

"'If it was fitting to be said to one girl, it is fitting to be heard by
all,' she said, inexorably. I have always thought that she was very dull
not to see that it must have been some uncomplimentary personal
remark--possibly about herself, for all she knew."

"Oh, I wish it had been!" broke in Cricket.

"I am very glad it wasn't. But we were well-trained girls in those days,
and rarely thought of grumbling at anything our teachers did. We might
not like them, but I don't remember talking about them much.

"'We are waiting,' she said, again, after a moment.

"'I _can't_ tell you before the class,' I repeated, obstinately. 'But
I'll tell you by yourself. I'm ashamed I said it, anyway.'

"Perhaps Phoebe had noticed me glance at her, or perhaps she knew,
more than we realized, that we sometimes made fun of her untidiness, for
she suddenly said, good-naturedly:

"'Do tell what it is, if it's anything about me, I sha'n't care. I'd
much rather go home and get my dinner.'

"'Was it about Phoebe?' asked Miss Abbie, instantly.

"To this point-blank question, I had to say 'Yes.'

"'Tell it,' urged Phoebe, good-naturedly.

"'Well, then,' I began, desperately,--but I could not say it. I
hesitated, and then added, quickly:

"'I said I wondered how Phoebe Dawson always managed to keep herself
looking so nice!'

"A little surprised look, then a laugh, went around the class. Every one
knew that I was not speaking the truth, and I dare say Miss Abbie knew
it herself. She cast a very sharp glance at me, but, nevertheless,
dismissed the class. Every one surrounded me in the cloak-room,
laughing, and teasing me about what I had said. But I only waited till
Miss Sarah was at liberty, and then I went to her and told her the
story. I was very angry, and in a state of great indignation against
Miss Abbie, and finally I burst out with, 'She made me tell that lie,
herself!'

"'Hush! my dear!' Miss Sarah said, gravely. 'If you think, you will see
that the trouble was that your sense of politeness was stronger than
your sense of truth. Again, if