WHEN Calista arrived at school, she found Mary waiting for her at the gate. The occurrences of the afternoon had almost put those of the morning out of her head; but the sight of Mary renewed the sore feeling in her heart. How could she meet Mary and treat her as if nothing had happened, after her treachery of the day before? Fortunately, she had no time left her to debate the matter. Mary came forward to meet her, with both hands outstretched and her face dyed with blushes. "Oh, Calista, won't you forgive me? I am so sorry—so ashamed. Do, please, forgive me." It was not in Calista to resist such an appeal. Silently the two friends embraced and kissed each other. "I went to Miss Meeks and told her just how it was," said Mary, as, with interlacing arms, after their old fashion, they walked toward the school-room. "And then I wanted to find you, but you were gone." "Yes; aunt sent for me to go home." "So Miss Meeks said. Calista, you were right: it was love of the world and its praise that made me act as I did. I saw that when I came to look myself in the face. I think there never was any one so inconsistent as I am," concluded Mary, with a sigh. "And how I have lectured other people! "Well, you are the least bit given to preaching—that cannot be denied," said Calista, smiling. Mary was a little piqued, notwithstanding her late resolutions. "Anyhow, I shall never do it again," said she. "Oh, yes, you will—dozens of times," returned Calista. "If you were to see the state my desk is in, you would give me a lecture on the spot. Come and help me to put it in order before Miss Meeks catches me." Somehow or other, Mary did not feel quite satisfied. She would have liked to have her penitence made of a little more consequence. So hard is it to put down in our hearts the love of the praise of men. She was, however, conscious of the feeling, and, instead of allowing it a lodgment, she resolutely turned it out and shut the door. "Oh, Calista! How can you ever find anything in such a chaos?" she exclaimed, as the lid of the desk was lifted. Then, as Calista laughed, she put down a rising feeling of anger and laughed too. "Well, there! You see it is second nature," said she. "But seriously, Calista, if you really wish to be a teacher, you must learn to be more orderly." "I know it; and really, Mary, I am improving. The fact is, I had all the things out of my part of the desk yesterday, preparatory to a grand 'redding up,' as Miss Jessy says; but then came the summons to go home, and I tumbled them back anyhow. Come, let us put it to rights before school." "Was anything wrong yesterday?" asked Mary, as she collected a dozen quill pens, and set herself to mend them. The making and mending of pens was a serious business in those days, and took up an amount of time which no teacher at this day can realize.