sh it, Victorine, I will do my best; but I know I
shall fail."

"Do you know how I generally succeed in such tasks, Lilias? It is never
by thinking of the possibility of failure. I have almost forgotten to
say, _I can't_, and have substituted, upon every occasion, _I'll try_."

"Well, then, to please you, Victorine, '_I'll try_,'" said Lilias,
smiling.

"Poor child," thought Victorine, "with your affectionate nature, and
noble principles, it is a pity you should be regarded only as a dull and
sullen little dunce, whom no one cares to waste a thought upon."

For a long time, Lilias' project in regard to the medal was concealed
from the school. To tell the truth, Victorine, herself, had many doubts
as to the success of her little friend, but she knew if she failed to
obtain the prize, the exertion would be of service to herself.

Long before the day arrived, Lilias had twenty times determined to
withdraw from all competition; but she never broke a promise, and as she
had pledged herself to Victorine, she resolved to persevere.

In the sequel, Victorine was surprised at the beauty of the thoughts in
Lilias' exercise, as well as the correctness of the language. She was
satisfied that Lilias had done well; her only fear was lest others
should do better.

At the head of the class to which Lilias belonged was Laura Graham; and
a mutual dislike had always existed between them. Laura was a selfish,
as well as an avaricious girl; and she had often looked with a covetous
eye upon the costly trifles which Lilias' father had bestowed upon his
daughter. To her narrow mind it seemed impossible that Victorine should
not have an interested motive in her kindness to Lilias, and she thought
an opportunity was now offered her of sharing some of her spoils.

About a week before the trial day, Laura G. sought Lilias, and leading
her to a remote part of the garden, she unfolded to her a scheme for
insuring the prize she so much coveted. She proposed to destroy her own
theme, knowing she was one of the best French pupils, thereby securing
the prize to Lilias, on condition she should receive, in return, a pearl
brooch and bracelet she had long coveted. Lilias, as might have been
expected, expressed the greatest contempt and resentment at the
proposal.

When the day arrived, many a little heart beat high with hope and fear.
Victorine, as might have been expected, took the first prize in the
first class. The class to which Lilias belong