ed her on the forehead with a whispered "That was
bravely spoken, Minnie," and let her go.

Minnie rushed out into the cool air with a flushed and happy face, and
her heart beating high with the joy of victory, and the gratification of
knowing that her effort was appreciated. She ran home without once
thinking of her disappointment in missing Mabel, but she did not forget
to seek her own room the first thing when she got in, and pour out her
thanksgiving for her recent triumph--even although she did find herself
stopping more than once in the midst of it to go over again in her own
mind the scene in the dressing-room afterward. After dinner she was
occupied with her lessons, and she found it just a little difficult to
settle down to them after the excitement of the afternoon.

She was a girl of a very warm and impulsive temperament, and little
things were apt to upset her in a way that many people would
characterize as absurd, but which was, so far from being absurd, simply
natural and unavoidable in an emotional nature such as hers. It was not,
therefore, through one cause and another, till she was in bed that she
recollected how she had wished to speak to Mabel so particularly, and
what it was she had to speak about. She felt just a little ashamed of
herself for allowing what had, only that morning, seemed to her a thing
of the first importance, to be crushed out, and for the moment
annihilated, by the occurrence of the afternoon. However, she decided to
make up for it on the morrow, and satisfied with this resolve, she fell
fast asleep.

Next morning, true to her resolution, she was early at the school so as
to be able to see Mabel Chartres, her most particular friend and
constant companion, before the day's work began. Mabel was a little
late, so Minnie could only whisper to her to wait when school was over,
and then they were called to their different places, for Minnie, though
younger by almost a year than Mabel, occupied an advanced position in
the first class, while Mabel was only in the second, and even there was
not of much account. Minnie, indeed in most things divided the laurels
of the school with Mona Cameron who was the oldest pupil, and the
emulation of the two kept the school in a perpetual state of
effervescence; Mona being sharp, and at times rather acrid, and Minnie
bright and sparkling and excitable, the contact of the two natures was
more than calculated to produce such a result. But on this part