be such a good one! I wonder if my Christian life must be
marked by such weary and ignominious failures as this? Gracie Dennis is
one of the _Christian (?)_ young ladies. A lovely Christian she has
shown, and, if I am not mistaken, will continue to show to me! I wonder
if it amounts to nothing but a name, after all, with the most of them?"

And here Marion stopped this train of thought, because she suddenly
remembered that she was now numbered among those on whom others were
looking and wondering if their religion meant anything but name. Suppose
that some had been looking at her in that light this day? How would they
have decided?

She found that she was not willing to be judged by the same rule that
she was almost unconsciously applying to Gracie Dennis. Then she went
back over the day, and tried to discover wherein she had failed, and how
she might have done what would have been better. Could she not, after
all, have gotten along without so severe and public a rebuke to this
young girl at her side?

She knew her temperament well. Indeed it was--she confessed it to
herself--a good deal like her own. What would be a trifle to half the
girls in the school, what would be forgotten by the best of them in a
day or two, would burn in this girl's memory, and affect her after life
and manner, almost in spite of herself--the more so, because of that
unfortunate call from Prof. Easton.

Marion knew by the swift glance which he gave at this strange situation
that it meant something to him. Then it was doubly hard for Gracie. She
began to feel sorry for her; to wish that she might in some way smooth
over the chasm that she had builded between them.

"She is very young," she said to herself, with a little sigh. "I ought
not to have expected such wonderful things of her. I wish I had managed
differently; it is too late now; I wonder how I shall get out of it all?
Shall I just let her go home without saying anything?"

All these troubled thoughts wandered through Marion's brain during the
intervals of quiet, when nothing was heard save the scratch of pens, for
the entire room was engaged in a dictation exercise, which was to
determine their standing in the writing class. At last there was quiet.

The demon of inattention had seemingly been exorcised or subdued, for
all were industriously at work, and Marion had a chance to rest from the
alert watchfulness which had characterized the day.

All at work but Gracie. She still b