r school-girls gathered round,
tittering at the caustic little tongue. "I suppose you study the
poets, Miss Irvine; and if so, doubtless you will remember who it is
that says:--

'Oh wad some power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!'"

The mischievous child stopped for a second, and then continued: "I am
afraid you look at yourself and your various charms through
rose-coloured spectacles, certainly not with 'a jaundiced eye;'--but I
beg your pardon; were you about to speak?" and Winnie looked innocently
into the fair face of her antagonist, which was now white and set with
passion.

The blue eyes were flashing with an angry light, the pretty lips
trembling, and the smooth brow knit in a heavy frown; but only for a
few moments. By-and-by the features relaxed their fixed and stony
gaze; the countenance resumed its usual haughty expression; and,
lifting up the book which was lying on her lap, Ada opened it at the
required page, and ended the discussion by saying, "I shall consider it
my duty to inform Mrs. Elder of your charming sentiments; in the
meantime, kindly excuse me from continuing such highly edifying
conversation." With that she bent her head over the French grammar,
and soon appeared thoroughly engrossed in the conjugation of the verb
_avoir_, to have, while her mischievous school-mate turned away with a
light shrug of her pretty shoulders.

Winnifred Blake, the youngest daughter of a wealthy, influential
gentleman, was a bright, happy girl of about fourteen years, with a
kind, generous heart, and warm, impulsive nature. Being small and
slight in stature, she seemed to all appearance a mere child; and the
quaint, gipsy face peeping from beneath a mass of shaggy, tangled curls
showed a pair of large laughter-loving eyes and a mischievous little
mouth.

Was she clever?

Well, that still remained to be seen. Certainly, the bright,
intelligent countenance gave no indication of a slow understanding and
feeble brain; but Winnie hated study, and consequently was usually to
be found adorning the foot of the class. "It is deliciously
comfortable here, girls," she would say to her school-mates when even
they protested against such continual indolence; "you see I am near the
fire, and that is a consideration in the cold, wintry days, I assure
you. Don't annoy yourselves over my shortcomings. Lazy, selfish
people always get on in the world;" and speaking thus, the incorrigible
child w