se, she asked
herself, for what she had never done?

"Well, I think you might tell me," Ruth went on. "_I_ told you about my
row; and what's the good of being chums if we can't keep each other's
secrets?"

But Maysie only sighed impatiently, and took up her library book.

"I wish you'd hurry up and finish those paintings of yours, and come
back properly to class," went on Ruth. "Aren't they nearly done?"

Maysie grew white, and turned away her face.

"I'm not going to try this year," she said.

"Why, I thought----" began Ruth. "Oh, I see! What a shame!"

Maysie choked down a sob. After a pause she said:

"Perhaps I shall have more chance of a Star next year."

"You'd have got one this!" said Ruth indignantly. "How mean to punish
you like that! And it's the only thing you care about!"

Maysie smiled. "Oh, never mind, dear," she said. "Everything seems mean
to us. You don't understand."

"But if you apologised it would be all right?"

"I daresay it might, but I don't think so. Besides, they've got to be
sent in by Wednesday, and I should hardly have time to do another
sheet."

Things went on like this until Monday evening. Though there was only one
day left, Maysie made no attempt to apologise. Miss Elton gave her every
opportunity, for she, too, hoped that Miss Bennet might thus be induced
to allow Maysie to finish her exhibition work, even at the last moment.

Maysie went to bed early that night. Her head had been aching all day,
and by the time tea was over she could hardly hold it up. Ruth was
greatly concerned about her, and, as a last resource, determined to
speak to Miss Bennet.

Maysie soon got into bed, and, being alone in the dormitory, hid her
face under the bed-clothes and sobbed. She was terribly homesick, poor
child, and now, for the first time, she began to doubt whether she had
done right after all; whether it would not have been wiser to have taken
Miss Bennet into her confidence, and trusted to her to set things right.
And then, there was that Silver Star! And a year was such a long time to
have to wait. But, thinking of Ruth, she grew ashamed of herself, and
dried her tears, and tried to go to sleep, though it was still quite
light out of doors.

Ruth, meanwhile, was sitting on the floor in front of Miss Bennet's
fire.

"It's about Maysie, Miss Bennet," she was saying. "I don't understand
what she has done, but I'm sure there must be some reason for her not
apologising."

Miss Be