"Sit here, Miss Fairfield," and Miss O'Flynn indicated a chair at one end of a long table. "You may line this hat." Then she gave Patty an elaborate velvet hat, trimmed with feathers, and materials for sewing. She also gave her white silk for the lining of the hat, and a piece stamped with gilt letters, which Patty knew must be placed inside the crown. It all seemed easy,--too easy, in fact, for Patty aspired to making velvet rosettes, and placing ostrich plumes. But she knew she was being tested, and she set to work at her task with energy. Though she had never lined a hat before, she knew in a general way how it should be done, and she tried to go about it with an air of experience. The other girls at the table cast furtive glances at her. Though they were not rude, they showed that air of hostile criticism, so often shown by habitues to a newcomer, though based on nothing but prejudiced curiosity. But as Patty began to cut the lining, she saw involuntary smiles spring to their faces. She knew that she must be cutting it wrongly, but it seemed to her the only way to cut it, so she went on. The girls began to nudge each other, and to smile more openly, and, to her own chagrin, Patty felt her cheeks growing red with embarrassment. She was tempted to speak pleasantly to them, and ask what her mistake was, but a strange notion of honesty forbade this. She had said at home that she believed it would be possible for her to earn her living without special instruction, and it seemed to her, that if she now asked for advice it would be like getting special training, though in a small degree. So she went calmly on with her work; cut and fitted the hat lining, and carefully sewed it in the hat. Remembering that the stitch she used on her "white work" had been criticised as too long, she now was careful to take very short stitches, and she used her utmost endeavour to make her work neat and dainty. Miss O'Flynn passed her chair two or three times while the work was in progress, but she made no comment of any sort. It was perhaps eleven o'clock when Patty completed the task. Next time Miss O'Flynn came by her she handed her the hat with an unmistakable air of triumph. "I've done it," Patty thought to herself, exultantly. "I've lined that hat, and, if I do say it that shouldn't, it's done perfectly; neat, smooth, and correct in every particular." While Patty was indulging in these self-congratulatory thoughts, Miss O'Flynn took the hat from her hand. She gave it a quick glance, then she looked at Patty. Had Patty looked more meek, had she seemed to await Miss O'Flynn's opinion of her work, the result might have been different. But Patty's expression was so plainly that of a conquering hero, she showed so palpably her pride in her own achievement, that Miss O'Flynn's eyes narrowed, and her face hardened. Without a word to Patty, she handed the hat to a sad-eyed young woman at another table, and said: "Line this hat, Miss Harrigan."