ust have been a stubborn heart, indeed, which could resist Miss
Preston's sweet tone.

"Oh, I don't know, but teachers always seem to mind every little thing one
does," replied Toinette, sulkily.

"It seems to me that this would be entirely too 'little a thing' for a
teacher or anyone else to mind. Don't you think so yourself?"

"Well, of course, I didn't think you would mind simply because I wrote to
papa, but because I posted the letter without first letting you read it,"
answered Toinette.

Now, indeed, was Miss Preston learning something new, and not even a child
could have questioned that her surprise was genuine when she exclaimed:

"Read your letters, my dear little girl! What are you saying?" and a
slight flush overspread her refined face.

It was now Toinette's turn to be surprised as she asked:

"Isn't that the rule here, Miss Preston?"

"Is it anywhere? I can hardly believe it. One's correspondence is a very
sacred thing, Toinette, and I would as soon be guilty of listening at
another person's door as of reading a letter intended for another's eyes.
Oh, my little girl, what mischief has been at work here?"

While Miss Preston was speaking Toinette had risen to her feet, her eyes
shining like stars, and her color coming and going rapidly. Now, taking
both Miss Preston's hands in her own, she said, in a voice which quivered
with excitement:

"Is that _truly_ true, Miss Preston? Aren't the girls' letters ever read?
Haven't mine been? _Do_ you trust me like that?"

Miss Preston looked the girl fairly in the eyes as she answered:

"I trust you as I trust the others, because I feel you to be a
gentlewoman, and, as such, you would be as reluctant to do anything liable
to cast discredit upon yourself as I would be to have you. I do not wish
my girls to fear but to love me, with all their hearts, and to trust me as
I trust them. I do not expect you to be perfect; we all make mistakes; I
make many, but we can help each other, dear, and remember this: 'Love
casteth out fear.' Try to love me, my little girl, and to feel that I am
your friend; I want so much to be."

Miss Preston's voice was very sweet and appealing, and as she spoke
Toinette's eyes grew limpid. Miss Preston still held her hands, and, as
she finished speaking, the girl dropped upon her knees and clasped her
arms about her waist, buried her face in her lap and burst into a storm of
sobs. All the pent-up feeling, the longing, the struggle, the