amazement; could she believe what she heard?

"To some girls," the Principal went on, "the taste of stolen fruit is
sweet, and having once tasted it, they hanker for more. To you, it is
bitter."

"Oh!" said Peggy; and the gasping exclamation was enough.

"Very bitter!" said the Principal. "I speak not from impulse, but from
experience, when I tell you that there is no girl in the school to-day
whom I could sooner trust not to commit this offence than you, who
committed it last night."

Her own thought, almost her own words. Peggy raise her head again, and
this time her eyes were full of a new hope, a new courage.

"I believe that is true, Miss Russell," she said, simply. "I had
thought that myself, but I didn't suppose--I didn't think--"

"You did not think that I would know enough to understand it!" said Miss
Russell, smiling. "Well, you see I do, though we both owe it partly to
dear Emily Cortlandt, who reminded me of my duty and of your position.
Now, Peggy, I have a recitation, and we must part. I put you in charge
of 'Broadway,' fully and freely. No one must come in, and no one must go
out, by that window. And if you have any trouble," she added, with a
smile, "if you have any trouble and do not think it right to tell me,
call for the Owls, and they will help you. Good-bye, my child!"

She held out her hand, and Peggy took it with a wild desire to kiss it,
or to fall down and kiss the hem of her gown who had shown herself thus
an angel of sympathy and kindness. But the Principal bent down and
kissed the girl's forehead lightly and tenderly.

"We shall be friends always now," she said, simply. "Don't forget,
Peggy!"

She was gone, and Peggy took her own way in the opposite direction,
hardly knowing whither she was going. Her heart was so full of joy and
love and gratitude, it seemed as if she must break out into singing or
shouting. Was ever any one so kind, so noble, so lovely? How could any
one not try to do her very, very best, to deserve the care and
friendship of such a teacher as this?

Passing as if on wings through the geometry room, she saw a figure
crouching over a desk, and was aware of Rose Barclay, bent over her
book, and crying bitterly. Nothing could hold Peggy back in that moment
of exaltation. In an instant she was at the girl's side. "Let me help
you!" she cried. "Please let me; I know I can."

Rose Barclay looked up fiercely. "I asked you to help me, once!" she
said. "I am not likely