the month of August of the same year in which the events
narrated in the preceding chapter occurred. The pupils of Miss Rader
were all assembled to receive the prizes which they were supposed to
have won.

The reward-books were handed to the pupils by an elderly lady--Mrs.
Lebours. She was standing in front of the row of young girls,
surrounded by half-a-dozen satellites of her own sex. Miss Rader was
sitting near the group of "young ladies."

Mrs. Lebours began: "First prize for French has been won by Adele
Rougeant, but the committee of ladies have decided that as she is
about to pursue her studies elsewhere, she will not receive the
prize. It will be given to the one next to her, who is going to
remain under Miss Rader's excellent tuition."

This little speech having been delivered by Mrs. Lebours, who
meanwhile flourished the reward-book; Miss Rader approached Adele,
and tapping her unkindly on the shoulder, she whispered to her in a
whistling tone, her snaky eyes expressing the kindliness of a tiger:
"You see what you gain through wanting to leave my school; you lose
a beautiful book."

Adele was not unhappy. On the contrary; she experienced an
elevating, martyr-like sensation. She turned towards Miss Rader.

"I have earned it?" she questioned.

"Yes, but----."

"I am satisfied," she said; then, quoting as near as she could a
phrase which had attracted her attention in one of the rare books
which she had cast her childish eyes upon, she added, "We do not go
to school to obtain prizes, but to acquire knowledge."

Miss Rader was seated in her former place when Adele finished. Her
upper lip was slightly curled up, she was gazing upon Adele with a
look of supreme contempt.

The distribution of prizes was soon finished. The children were
dismissed for the holidays and sent home. Adele bore her little head
up proudly. She had been wronged. She felt a thrill of pleasure as
she entered her home at "Les Marches."

In acting as they had done, the committee of ladies had placed
themselves lower than her. She felt it, and prided herself upon
being ever so much better than they were. When her father came in
she called out to him: "I earned a prize, but they would not give it
me as I was going to leave school."

"Humph!" he said moodily, "I am afraid you over-estimate your
intellectual capacities. Carry this letter to your uncle Tom at the
'Prenoms.'"

And he handed his daughter a scrap of paper.

Adele did i