what she had
heard.

She then went to her practice without a word of objection, and performed
her work faithfully, after which her other lessons were taken up as
usual.

All during the day she was obedient and respectful, and when the lessons
were completed, Violet, with a tenderer feeling for her than she had yet
experienced, read her the most charming story that she could find.

By the middle of the afternoon Mr. Lawrence paid them a visit, and
finding his daughter in a sunnier mood than usual, looked the pleasure
he felt.

He told them that he had come to take them to drive in Central Park, and
a few minutes after they were rolling rapidly out toward that beautiful
spot, behind a pair of handsome bays.

That evening, just before it was time for Bertha to retire, she stole
softly to Violet's side, wound her arms about her neck, and, peering
eagerly into her face, shyly remarked:

"Miss Huntington, your eyes do not look 'sorry' tonight."

"No, indeed, dear; they ought to look very bright and happy, after such
a delightful day as we have had," Violet answered.

"It has been a good day, hasn't it?" Bertha questioned, laying her head
fondly on her teacher's shoulder.

"Yes, and all days will be 'good days,' if we do right," was the gentle
response, as Violet passed her arm around the child and drew her closer
to her.

"I wonder, Miss Huntington, if you will get to love me by and by,"
Bertha said, wistfully, after a little pause.

"I love you now, dear," was the sweet-voiced assurance.

"Truly."

"Yes, truly and dearly," and a soft kiss emphasized the statement.

"But----"

"But what, Bertha?"

"You didn't love me yesterday."

"Oh, yes, I did, my dear child."

"How could you? It did not seem like love when you were so--so stern and
set."

"I certainly should not have shown love for you it I had allowed you to
have your own way."

"Shall you always be so?"

"'So'--how?"

"Why, set--determined."

"I hope I shall always be firm enough to do what is right, dear."

"Is it right to make little girls do what they do not want to?"

"Yes, if what they wish to do is wrong."

"Don't you ever say 'yes,' when you have once said 'no,' Miss
Huntington?"

"I do not mean to, Bertha, for I am afraid that a certain little girl,
whom I know, would not trust or respect me if I should," Violet
answered, gravely.

"I love you," said the child, impulsively, and Violet felt that she had
won no mean victory