Meanwhile, the artist, Mr. Drake, much amused, brought in his photographic apparatus, and made a picture of the little group. This picture Mrs. Clifford purchased for Mrs. Parlin, instead of the many-nosed miniature of the baby. The day before starting for the east, Prudy went with Mrs. Clifford, her cousins, and Cassy, to visit the hospital, which was filled with sick and wounded soldiers. They wanted to give something to every man they saw, and mourned when their "goody-basket" was emptied of its contents. "O, ma," said Grace, with ready tears, "it just makes me feel like we must get up that fair, and raise money!" "I only wish _I_ could be here to help," said little Prudy. "Come here, my dear," said a pale gentleman who heard the child's voice. "I cannot see you, for I am blind. Will you tell me who you all are?" "Yes, sir; this is me, that's got your hand. My name is Prudy Parlin, and that boy that isn't in this room is Horace." "Horace! Whose son?" "He's my uncle Henry Clifford's son; but uncle Henry isn't _his_ uncle: he's his father. Horace is his only son, and me, and Susy, and Dotty is _my_ father's only daughters!" "Possible! Now, my sweet little one, will you ask Horace to come here?" It was Mr. Lazelle, with whom the Cliffords had travelled east the year before. They had a pleasant meeting. Horace had once been angry with this very gentleman for boxing his ears; but he forgot it all when he looked at the blind, helpless soldier, and wanted to open his savings' bank at once in his behalf. Next day Prudy went home. Grace and all the Princesses wept bitterly at parting with the dear child; still, it was better for them that she should go away. She claimed too much of their attention at the very time when they should have thought only of study. CHAPTER X. WHO GETS THE PRIZE? Mahla Linck seemed to grow paler and thinner. Her mother, when kindly advised to keep her at home, replied, "My Mahla loves her book; she must in the school go." The poor woman could not and would not see the danger. But though Mahla looked ill, she no longer seemed discouraged. Since Grace had undertaken to help her, she was gaining confidence. "Mother, I feel just this way," Mahla would say sometimes: "if I can't get the prize, I hope Grace Clifford will, for she's the best girl in school." Mrs. Linck was glad that Mahla felt so kindly towards her rival, but sighed as she looked at her daughter's pale face, and thought of the weary hours she had spent in study, while other girls were at play. Examination-day came. It was sultry even for July. But the girls at the Grammar School, who had drooped like wilted flowers, now bloomed bright and fresh once more. Those who had new dresses wore them on this occasion, and all came to school with hair smoothly brushed the very last thing.