This was a natural consequence of the high excitement under which she was laboring, and so, when Guy did ask her concerning the books designated, she answered but little better than before, and he was wondering what he should do next, when the doctor’s welcome step was heard, and leaving Madeline again, he repaired to the next room to report his ill success. “She does not seem to know anything. The veriest child ought to do better than she has done. Why, she has scarcely answered half a dozen questions correctly.” This was what poor Maddy heard, though it was spoken in a low whisper; but every word was distinctly understood, and burned into her heart’s core, drying her tears and hardening her into a block of marble. She knew that Guy had not done her justice, and this helped to increase the torpor stealing over her. Still she did not lose a syllable of what was said in the back office, and her lip curled scornfully when she heard Guy remark, “I pity her; she is so young, and evidently takes it so hard. Maybe she’s as good as they average. Suppose we give her the certificate, anyway?” Then Dr. Holbrook spoke, but to poor, bewildered Maddy his words were all a riddle. It was nothing to _him_, whether she knew anything or not,—who was _he_ that he should be dictating thus? There seemed to be a difference of opinion between the young men, Guy insisting that out of pity she should not be rejected; and the doctor demurring on the ground that he ought to be more strict, especially with the _first_ one. As usual, Guy overruled, and seating himself at the table, the doctor was just commencing, “I hereby certify——” while Guy was bending over him, when the latter was startled by a hand laid firmly on his arm, and, turning quickly, he confronted Madeline Clyde, who, with her short hair pushed back from her blue-veined forehead, her face as pale as ashes, save where a round spot of purplish red burned upon her cheeks, and her eyes gleaming like coals of fire, stood before him. “He need not write that,” she said, huskily, pointing to the doctor. “It would be a lie, and I could not take it. You do not think me qualified. I heard you say so. I do not want to be pitied. I do not want a certificate because I am so young, and you think I’ll feel badly. I do not want——” Here her voice failed her, her bosom heaved, and the choking sobs came thick and fast, but still she shed no tear, and in her bright, dry eyes there was a look which made both those young men turn away involuntarily. Once Guy tried to excuse her failure, saying she no doubt was frightened. She would probably do better again, and might as well accept the certificate; but Madeline still said no, so decidedly that further remonstrance was useless. “She would not take what she had no right to,” she said, “but if they pleased she would wait there in the back office until her grandfather came back; it would not be long, and she should not trouble them.”