of a great, old oak. The dew of the
morning glittered on the shaded grass. The clear light blue of the
morning sky smiled through upward quivering leaves. Every thing looked
bright and buoyant, and as I walked on, girded with a resolute purpose,
my spirit caught something of the animation and inspiration of the
scene.

The master saw me as I approached, and I expected to see a frown darken
his brow. I felt brave, however, for I was about to plead for another,
not myself. He did not frown, neither did he smile. He seemed willing to
meet me,--he even slackened his pace till I came up. I felt a sultry
glow on my cheek when I faced him, and my breath came quick and short. I
was not so very brave after all.

"Master Regulus," said I, "do not expel Richard Clyde,--do not disgrace
him, because he thought I was not kindly dealt with. I am sorry I ran
from school as I did,--I am sorry I wrote the poem,--I hardly knew what
I was doing when I snatched the paper from your hands. I suppose Richard
hardly knew what he was doing when he stopped you at the door."

I did not look up while I was speaking, for had I met an angry glance I
should have rebelled.

"I am glad I have met you, Gabriella," said he, in a tone so gentle, I
lifted my eyes in amazement. His beamed with unusual kindness beneath
his shading brows. Gone was the mocking gleam,--gone the deriding smile.
He looked serious, earnest, almost sad, but not severe. Looking at his
watch, and then at the golden vane, as if that too were a chronometer,
he turned towards the old oak, and throwing himself carelessly on a seat
formed of a broken branch, partially severed from the trunk, motioned me
to sit down on the grass beside him. Quick as lightning I obeyed him,
untying my bonnet and pushing it back from my head. I could scarcely
believe the evidence of my senses. There reclined the formidable master,
like a great, overgrown boy, his attitude alone banishing all restraint
and fear, and I, perched on a mossy rock, that looked as if placed there
on purpose for me to sit down upon, all my wounded and exasperated
feelings completely drowned in a sudden overflow of pleasant emotions. I
had expected scolding, rebuke, denial,--I had armed myself for a
struggle of power,--I had resolved to hazard a martyr's doom.

Oh, the magic of kindness on a child's heart!--a lonely, sensitive,
proud, yearning heart like mine!--'Tis the witch-hazel wand that shows
where the deep fountain is secr