l! . . . You are not
afraid of me, _hein_?"

"No," answered Corona simply, still wondering what he might mean, but
keeping a steady eye on him. Why should she be afraid of this comic
little man?

"So? . . . I engage you. You are to be ze May Queen in ze great
Merchester Bageant. . . . But you must be goot and attend how I drill
you. Ozzerwise I dismees you."

It appeared that Mr. Isidore had spent the afternoon with Mr. Colt,
hunting the schools of Merchester in search of a child to suit his
fastidious requirements. He had two of the gifts of genius--
unwearying patience in the search, unerring swiftness in the choice.

Mr. Simeon, the rehearsal over, walked home heavily. On his way he
paused to study the pit, and look up from it to the threatened mass
of masonry. '_Not in my time, O Lord!_'

And yet--

"From low to high doth dissolution climb,
And sink from high to low along a scale
Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail . . .
Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear
The longest date . . . drop like the tower sublime
Of yesterday, which royally did wear
His crown of weeds, but could not even sustain
Some casual shout that broke the silent air,
Or the unimaginable touch of Time."

But Corona, breaking away from her playfellows and gaining the road
to St. Hospital, skipped as she ran homeward, treading clouds of
glory.

CHAPTER XX.

NAUGHTINESS, AND A SEQUEL.

"She has behaved very naughtily," said Brother Copas.

"I don't understand it at all," sighed Brother Bonaday.

"Nor I."

"It's not like her, you see."

"It was a most extraordinary outburst. . . . Either the child has
picked up some bad example at school, to copy it (and you will
remember I always doubted that her sex gets any good of schooling)--"

"But," objected Brother Bonaday, "it was you who insisted on sending
her."

"So I did--in self-defence. If we had not done our best the State
would have done its worst, and put her into an institution where one
underpaid female grapples with sixty children in a class, and talks
all the time. Now we didn't want Corona to acquire the habit of
talking all the time." Here Brother Copas dropped a widower's sigh.
"In fact, it has hitherto been no small part of her charm that she
seldom or never spoke out of her turn."

"It has been a comfort to have her company," put in Brother Bonaday,
eager to say a good word for the culprit