Now, in her heart Miss Blish thought Rose “a stuck-up puss,” but the other girls wanted to know her and couldn't, the old house was a charming place to visit, the lads were considered fine fellows, and the Campbells “are one of our first families,” mamma said. So Ariadne concealed her vexation at Rose's coolness, and changed the subject as fast as possible. “Studying French, I see; who is your teacher?” she asked, flitting over the leaves of “Paul and Virginia,” that lay on the table. “I don't study it, for I read French as well as English, and uncle and I often speak it for hours. He talks like a native, and says I have a remarkably good accent.” Rose really could not help this small display of superiority, for French was one of her strong points, and she was vain of it, though she usually managed to hide this weakness. She felt that Ariadne would be the better for a little crushing, and could not resist the temptation to patronise in her turn. “Oh, indeed!” said Miss Blish, rather blankly, for French was not her strong point by any means. “I am to go abroad with uncle in a year or two, and he knows how important it is to understand the languages. Half the girls who leave school can't speak decent French, and when they go abroad they are so mortified. I shall be very glad to help you, if you like, for, of course, you have no one to talk with at home.” Now Ariadne, though she looked like a wax doll, had feelings within her instead of sawdust, and these feelings were hurt by Rose's lofty tone. She thought her more “stuck up” than ever, but did not know how to bring her down, yet longed to do it, for she felt as if she had received a box on the ear, and involuntarily put her hand up to it. The touch of an ear-ring consoled her, and suggested a way of returning tit for tat in a telling manner. “Thank you, dear; I don't need any help, for our teacher is from Paris, and of course he speaks better French than your uncle.” Then she added, with a gesture of her head that set the little bells on her ears to tingling: “How do you like my new ear-rings? Papa gave them to me last week, and everyone says they are lovely.” Rose came down from her high horse with a rapidity that was comical, for Ariadne had the upper hand now. Rose adored pretty things, longed to wear them, and the desire of her girlish soul was to have her ears bored, only Dr. Alec thought it foolish, so she never had done it. She would gladly have given all the French she could jabber for a pair of golden bells with pearl-tipped tongues, like those Ariadne wore; and, clasping her hands, she answered, in a tone that went to the hearer's heart, “They are too sweet for anything! If uncle would only let me wear some, I should be perfectly happy.” “I wouldn't mind what he says. Papa laughed at me at first, but he likes them now, and says I shall have diamond solitaires when I am eighteen,” said Ariadne, quite satisfied with her shot.