The three-minute bell began to ring, and Hildegarde went back to the school-room. Bella did not reappear among her kind for twenty-four hours. Some said she’d already gone home. Others said no, she was waiting till her mother came for her. Certainly Miss MacIver made no sign; but her cold seemed better. Upon resuming her place the next day, Bella, still with her nose in the air, publicly announced that she had begged Miss MacIver’s pardon. “How did they make you do it?” Hildegarde asked the little girl at recess. The wicked Miss Wayne was again sitting solitary on the stone steps among the shrubbery at the back, holding on her knees a new slate, the lower part covered with neat little figures—the upper elegantly decorated with dragons. “_No_body made me,” answered Bella, while she carefully shaded the scaly coil on the monster’s tail. “The door was a little bit open—Miss MacIver’s door—and I saw her packing up. Then she looked out and caught me peeking at her.” “Heavens!” breathed Hildegarde, so overcome she sat down. “What happened then?” “Oh, I went in.” “She called you?” “No.” “You didn’t go in without being made to?” “Yes, I did.” “Gracious! How _could_ you, Bella?” “I thought I’d better. I went in and asked her pardon.” “What did she say?” “She just”—the outrageous Bella made the obnoxious clicking in her nose. “Do you know she’s only got two dresses?” “Yes, I’ve noticed.” “But she’s very well off for fronts.” “Is she?” Bella nodded. “Got three.” “You don’t mean to tell me, Bella Wayne, Miss MacIver’s got three false fronts!” “Yes, she has. And the weeest little, teenty-weenty trunk, she’s got. But it’s quite big enough. I could see she hadn’t anything, hardly, to put in it. Only bottles and fronts. After I’d begged pardon, and was going out, I suddenly thought she must be pretty poor, even if she did have such a lot of—do you suppose it’s because she can’t afford hats? Well, I don’t know. Anyhow I asked her what school she was going to after this. She said she didn’t know. Then I looked at those nightmarey MacIvers and asked her if she was going home. She suddenly began to look awfuller than ever. I saw _she_ was thinking about the MacIvers, too, and it was ’most more than she could bear. So I ran back and begged her not to go. I said I did so need her.” “You needed her?”